Wrong Galaxy
by SPT
Summary: SG1SGA crossover. Mitchell runs into a spot of trouble offworld and ends up in the Pegasus Galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a bit of an SG-1/SGA crossover, mostly featuring SG-1, but the majority of the SGA have a cameo. Set sometime after Pegasus Project. I'm going to apologize now, updates are probably going to be a bit on the slow side; I'm super busy right now but this story was damanding to be written. Please let me know what you think.**

Lt Col John Sheppard stepped through the gate and promptly glared at the grey sky pouring rain down his collar; it'd rained the last time they came to this planet too. He huddled further into his jacket as he turned the glare on his friend and fellow drowned-rat-imitating teammate, "let's just get this over with so we can go home."

"This is extremely important work," McKay sputtered as he too pulled up the collar of his uniform jacket. Under any other circumstances, Rodney would have been the one whining for all he was worth about the weather, but they were there because of him and he'd learned early on that if he complained too much on this type of mission, Sheppard would simple say ok, turn the car around and take everyone home. "Although, I don't see why we couldn't have brought a puddle jumper."

"We tried that last time," Ronan ground out, "there was no where to land."

"Right, right, of course I remember that, genius here."

Even Teyla had to fight the urge to drop her head into her hands, instead sharing a roll of her eyes with Shepard, as the team moved off toward the ruins that housed whatever signal had excited McKay so much the last time they were here. Unfortunately, a call from Atlantis had cut that expedition short soon after Rodney had discovered the anomaly; he'd complained for a week solid until Elizabeth agreed to schedule a return visit. So here they were, walking through a dense temperate rainforest in the pouring rain.

Fifteen minutes later they came to the edge of the ruins; even in shambles the ancient architecture was breathtaking. John, Teyla and Ronan dropped their packs under an overhang as McKay began moving through the ruins searching for his phantom signal.

"Hey, I've got something here."

Sheppard smirked, "of course you do Rodney; that's why we're here, remember?"

"No," Rodney answered slowly, throwing John a look that showed exactly how little he thought of his snark, "I've got a life sign besides our own."

John and Ronan's hands instantly went to their guns. Teyla also made sure her weapon was at the ready, "Rodney, this planet is uninhabited."

McKay shoved the life signs detector in her face, "well apparently nobody told him that. The signal is roughly two kilometers, um…" he spun in a small circle, "that way."

"Right, Teyla and I will go check it out; Rodney and Ronan try and find whatever it is that we came here for." The colonel dug out his own life signs detector and headed off into the woods followed by Teyla. John watched as the two dots signifying he and Teyla approached the unidentified being; that signal had yet to move since McKay had spotted it. The three dots converged as they entered a more dense section of the forest. "Do you see anything," he quarried Teyla, "we should be right on top of him- it- whatever."

They both spun in slow circles, searching for any inconsistency with the surrounding woods; on her third turn Teyla noticed what appeared to be small patch of black fabric, partially obscured by mud, peeking from beneath a downed tree. She laid a hand on John's arm and drew his attention to the area. They approached slowly, weapons ready; one never to what to expect in this galaxy.

John nudged the fabric with the toe of his boot and came into contact with a solid body underneath; there was definitely a person under there. But whoever it was had shown no reaction to the intrusion. Sheppard eyed the man's position; there was no doubt he'd been trying to hide himself from someone. There couldn't have been more than eighteen inches of clearance between the mossy ground and the trunk, large branches made their way to the ground providing further cover for the man's body.

He slowly lowered his P-90, making sure that Teyla still had the man covered, and removed some of the foliage that had apparently been hastily pulled in to cover the body. John's breath caught in his throat at what he uncovered; the man was wearing US military issued t-shirt, fatigue pants and combat boots.

He had to be one of theirs.

That's when he noticed the other part of the equation; the soldier's hands were tied securely behind his back with a thin strip of leather, and apparently had been for some time. The skin around the bindings was bloody and raw, his fingers nearly white from lack of circulation; the dark, thick bands of bruising encircling both wrists spoke of other restraints that had been used as well.

He motioned for Teyla to help him pull their lost comrade from his obvious hiding spot; the man's skin was ice cold, his clothes soaked and nearly frozen stiff. Mud covered much of his clothing and skin; the once black t-shirt hung in tatters on his shivering frame, and raised, red welts were visible through many of the rents in the fabric along his back and arms. A slow, thready pulse was barely discernable beneath John's fingers.

First things first, John decided as he reached for his radio, whoever this man was, he needed help, fast. "Rodney, get back to the gate, we need Beckett and a med team here pronto. And be careful, it looks like this guy was being chased, they might still be around."

"But I-, right, I'll have him here as soon as I can."

John nearly smiled at the sounds of McKay warring with his internal demons. The man clearly wanted to stay and continue his research, but he knew that if Sheppard was asking for a med team than it must be something pretty important. John stilled for a moment as he wracked his brain for a list of missing personnel that matched the description of the soldier at his feet. Coming up empty handed, he dropped to his knees next to Teyla as she cut the man's bindings and gently removed the leather from where it had become embedded in the skin. Sheppard quickly dug one of the emergency blankets from his pack and spread it on the wet ground so they would have a dry place to work. He and Teyla worked in tandem to tenderly maneuver the man on to his back; it was then that the pale light relected off the fractured knife blade patruding from the front of his shoulder. Even unconscious, he flinched at their touch and gave a weak cry as he was shifted. They tented another emergency blanket over the prone figure, doing their best to keep the rain off the injured man.

The Athosian leader left the knife blade alone, knowing that she could do much more damage by pulling it out than it was causing right now. She gave an audible gasp as the man's face finally came into view; even covered in mud, it was obvious that he'd been badly beaten, several times from the looks of things. She quickly searched her pack for a handkerchief and allowed the rain to wet it slightly before she began gently wiping the thick mud from the man's face, revealing more cuts and bruises as she went. Teyla studied his face closely as something sparked in her recent memory, "John, I believe I met this person recently, but he is not from Atlantis."

Sheppard looked up from where he was trying to inventory the injuries to the man's torso and legs. "No way in hell," he mumbled to himself as stared at the battered face, he fumbled for the silver chain that still hung around the soldier's neck. Eventually John was able to free the dog tags from the destroyed t-shirt; the name he found there only served to increase his confusion. At Teyla's imploring look, he simply held the tags up for her to read aloud.

"Mitchell, Cameron, Lt. Col."


	2. Chapter 2

**NEARLY THREE WEEKS EARLIER**

Daniel fiddled with his glasses in the town square as he threw another glance at the large stone building on the other side of it. Mitchell had been stuck in there for two days now, mediating over the formation of the new peace treaty for Uglop; Jackson couldn't help but smile at the memory of Cameron's 'SERIOUSLY?' when he'd first heard the name. Apparently it had been something to do with the Goa'uld lord that had previously ruled the planet, but even Daniel had been unable to get a satisfactory explanation of what it actually meant.

Uglop turned out to be a smallish planet made up of five very different nation states; the planet had erupted into a massive civil war the second news of their lord's defeat had reached their ears. Not that they had been exceptionally fond of their Lord, several of the nations had been trading behind his back for years. Although small, the planet was laden with valuable natural resources and therefore was an irreplaceable trading partner of many other worlds and races, such as the Asgard; why they hadn't been called in to mediate the talks, no one knew.

Cam had talked circles around himself trying to convince the leadership of the five nations that anyone else would be a better choice- especially if that choice was Jackson- to run interference during the negotiations. He'd cited Daniel's knowledge of the conflict, the nations' historical backgrounds, and the fact that he was the socio-political nerd on the team, but nothing had swayed them; they wanted the leader of SG-1 or no one. So Mitchell had done his homework, reading over numerous reports on the planet's history and political climate, as well as picking Daniel's brain every chance he got. The archeologist was secretly proud that he was taking things so seriously; he doubted Jack would have done the same. But still, Jackson couldn't help being just a bit jealous, hence his pacing through the town square on a regular basis; Sam and Teal'c had opted to sit this one out, but Cameron had asked Daniel to come along for nightly guidance.

Recalling the saying that a 'watched pot never boils', Jackson stood and moved through the bustling market place. As it was only lunch time on the planet, he knew that he had at least five hours before they would adjourn for the evening.

Last night Mitchell had emerged from the meeting nearly as frustrated at Daniel had ever seen him. "They're worse than a bunch of four year olds fighting over a new toy", he'd commented as they ate a quiet dinner together. The Colonel was not a patient man- never even claimed to be- and was used to a much more direct method of conflict resolution; Daniel could only imagine the torture he was going through trying to maintain his tact in the face of such childish behavior when the results could improve so many lives. The rest of the delegates were taking part in a special feast in honor of the talks, but the colonel had declined, declaring to Jackson privately that if he spent one more minute in their company that day he would kill them all and claim justifiable homicide.

The market place seemed even more crowded than it had the day before, news of the temporary cease-fire having spread to the outlying cities. The stalls displayed various wares, everything from household appliances to vegetables and rare minerals, many of which could only be found on Uglop. The bazaar took up nearly five square city blocks; Daniel had only managed to explore half of it in an hour of wandering when he thought he heard someone frantically calling his name. He turned quickly and found the liaison that had been assigned to Mitchell, Barston if he remembered correctly, racing toward him.

"Dr Jackson, I have been looking for you everywhere. You must leave through the Stargate immediately, the fighting will resume any minute now." The man's frantic looks to the surrounding market place added weight to his statement.

Daniel dug in his heels as the liaison began physically pushing him toward the gate, "hold on a second, what happened? Where's Col Mitchell? Did the talks break down?"

Barston continued forcing the reluctant archeologist toward the gate. "Something has happened to the delegates. The chamber was empty when we came to deliver the mid-day meal and there were signs of a struggle. Word has already leaked out, each nation is sure to blame the others."

"WHAT?!" Jackson dodged out of the man's grip, "what happened to 'high security'?"

"The security officers were found dead outside of the chamber." Barston finally realized that forcing Jackson to leave without knowing what had happened wasn't exactly an option. "We can only assume that rebels have taken the delegates hostage in order to stall the peace talks. Please, you must get through the gate, the other nations are no doubt planning retaliation as we speak." No sooner had the words left his mouth then there was an explosion several miles to the north of their position. Barston snatched Daniel's arm and bodily hauled him toward the gate; Jackson was not a small man, but the liaison easily had seventy-five pounds on him.

"But they may still be in the area; we have to mount a search. I don't know how things work here, but on my planet, we don't leave people behind," the archeologist explained frantically. They had reached the DHD by this point, Barston quickly began punching in Earth's gate address as the explosions continued around them. Jackson's despair and anger grew the more he realized that there was very little he could do to help Cam right now; "at least let me bring a team back to search when the attacks stop. We won't give up on Col Mitchell without a fight."

Barston gave him a hard look as the wormhole opened, "_if_ the attacks lighten, I will contact you. But I warn you, our people will not welcome you back."

Daniel quickly punched in his IDC knowing that he was going through the gate one way or another. Sure enough, Barston soon forced him up the short steps. Jackson cursed the fact that he was unarmed- the city of Sylvain had become a weapons free zone while the negotiations were being hosted here- knowing that would have been his only chance of getting away from Barston and searching for Cameron. Daniel stumbled through the wormhole as Barston gave him a final shove.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam's fingers continued flying over the keyboard even as her mind drifted; her patience had nearly reached its breaking point. A soft beeping from her laptop informed her that the simulation had failed once again; Carter literally had to grab the chair to keep herself from launching the computer across the room.

She bit her lip as she held in the tears of fear and frustration that threatened. It'd been four days since Daniel had tumbled through the unscheduled wormhole; four days since Cameron had disappeared without a trace; four days that they hadn't been able to establish a wormhole with the gate on Uglop. At least Vala and Teal'c were out doing something she fumed to herself, while she was stuck here on the Odyssey enroute to the warring planet. Sam knew that the trail was cold by now and that they were unlikely to receive a warm welcome, but the SGC did not leave a man behind and neither would she.

There had been rumors that a couple of the rebels had been left behind in the conference room; there was no doubt in her mind that they were there courtesy of her team leader. Unfortunately, the rumors also indicated that the men knew knowing more than that they had been hired to kidnap the delegates. Anything that appeared to be even the slightest piece of luck seemed to turn into a dead end the last few days.

Carter looked up as Daniel settled heavily into the mess hall chair next to her, "how much longer?"

"Ten hours; Vala just checked in, she still hasn't had any luck with her contacts either. Teal'c's next contact is scheduled for late tonight. Whoever these people are, they're being really quiet about their coup; nothing's been heard about Mitchell or any of the other delegates." Jackson stared into his hands as he spoke; he couldn't help blaming himself that they hadn't had more luck finding Cam, if he'd only tried harder to get more information or start the search right away they might have him back by now.

Sam threw a careful arm around his shoulders; she'd seen that look in his eyes before. "If you'd stayed we would be looking for both of you."

"Or we'd already have him back." Daniel looked up at her with solemn eyes, "I think you would have been proud of him, Sam, he was working so hard to make things fair for everyone, but he wouldn't take any shit from the delegates either. If I didn't know better I would say that little prank we played about Jack being his father was true; of course his tact would have had to come from his mom."

Sam gave a soft laugh, remembering the look of confused shock on Cam's face when they'd brought up _that_ file. "I'm always proud of him, but I know he's been working hard on this; Carolyn said he barely slept the two nights before you guys left, apparently he spent both nights going over reports on the planet."

Daniel gave her a sad smile, "I guess that makes four nights without sleep then. He didn't sleep at all on the planet either," he added at her questioning look. "You know, we've really got to break this streak that we're on." The deepening of her bewildered look nearly brought a real grin to his face; although Sam was one of the most intelligent people he'd ever met, there were times that it was nice to know that she got confused occasionally too. "Three of the five of us have been MIA at some point in the last two months; and I'm sure Teal'c and Vala would rather not be next."

Sam contemplated his comments; she was _certain_ neither Vala or Teal'c would want to be next, and she sure as hell didn't want to have to go through this again.

"Col Carter, Dr. Jackson to Command."

Sam and Daniel fled the table leaving their barely touched dinners and several startled crewmen in their wake. They entered the command deck to find Teal'c's face staring at them from the video screen; he wore a stony expression but both could see a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

"Col Mitchell was sighted in a village near the stargate on P47-S9G early this afternoon," he stated without wasting time on pleasantries. "A young protégé of Bra'tak's observed him with a group of men known only as the Coalition."

Sam let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding; it wasn't a lot to go on, but it was a definite place to start. "Was he ok?"

"Chan'tuk stated his belief the Col Mitchell had been interrogated rather harshly, but appeared to be holding his own. Chan'tuk regrets that he could not have freed Col Mitchell from captivity, but he was vastly outnumbered. He contacted me as soon as he was able."

"That's great news Teal'c, please give Chan'tuk our thanks. Why don't you keep checking your contacts, we'll go learn everything we can on P47-S9G."

Teal'c inclined his head before closing the transmission.

Jackson and Carter left the Command as the new colonel ordered the coordinates set for P47-S9G, both had a bit more bounce to their step than they'd had a few minutes before.

**STARGATE: SG-1**

His body twitched as awareness slowly flooded back to him; surprisingly, intense pain was not part of that flood- at least, no more than he'd felt on a daily basis for the last two weeks. That would come later he knew. He'd taken out too many of the Coalition's men on his latest escape attempt to avoid punishment this time. Eventually his brain got around to realizing that he was not sprawled out on the floor of his cell as he would have expected, but standing in the middle of the room, his wrists encased in metal shackles and held well above his head. This was not a good sign; he'd been interrogated several times since these men had swarmed into the conference room on Uglop- and he had the broken ribs to prove it, but this set up was a first.

"So nice of you to join us, _mediator._"

Cam looked up at the voice from the doorway and returned the sneer, "well you know I never could resist an invitation, especially when it was addressed so personally."

The Captain growled at his obvious reference to that fact that they had yet to determine Mitchell's identity; their captive had been frustratingly tight lipped on the subject. He knew the key to that puzzle was the small metal plates that hung around his prisoner's neck, but unfortunately neither he nor anyone on any of the six planet's they had dragged the man to, had been able to understand the wording on the tags. It was also unfortunate that the delegates had been little help on that front either; they had only been introduced to the man as 'mediator', to ensure that there would be no accusations of favoritism.

"While you were able to disable several of my men, you were far from escape." The Captain puffed his chest with a misplaced sense of importance as he circled Cameron in a casual manner and unfurled a rather lethal looking braided leather whip. In truth, the only reason Mitchell had failed to escape was that their ship was not currently parked over a planet. "Under other circumstances I would simply kill you in retaliation for their deaths; however, something tells me that you are worth much more to me alive. Especially considering the team that has been searching the galaxy for you," he hissed directly into Cam's ear.

Mitchell had ignored the appearance of the whip, but his head snapped up at the mention of his team. It was the first he'd heard of any activity from them. He'd had no doubt that they were out doing everything they could to find him, but it was nice to hear that the Coalition was at least concerned enough about them to track their movements. Alarm bells began ringing in his head though as he realized that if the Coalition knew of their movements, then his team could well be in danger.

He was so involved worrying about his team that the first crack of the whip took him completely by surprise; white hot pain streaked across his shoulders a fraction of a second after the sound reached his ears. Instinctively, his arms flexed, trying to pull himself up and away from the new pain; sadly another strike several seconds later proved the motion had been futile. Cam gritted his teeth through the subsequent strikes, refusing to allow the scream that threatened as the skin of his back was efficiently ripped apart. He lost track of time and cracks of the whip as his mind became enveloped in a haze of pain; he barely even registered when the Captain finally determined that he had doled out enough punishment for the day and released the manacles, allowing his captive to crumple to the floor.

This man had cost him two hired guns back on Uglop, and another four in his escape attempt this morning; the Captain delivered a sharp kick to his semiconscious prisoner's ribs in retribution. Smiling at the wave of satisfaction that rippled through him as Mitchell flinched and attempted to curl into a very small ball, he drew back his foot for another go.

Cam may have hurt like hell, but he was much closer to alertness than the Captain realized. He watched patiently as the man's foot arced toward his chest; at the last second he rolled to the side and grabbed the Captain's foot in both hands, using the man's momentum to throw him across the room. _Thank you, Teal'c!_ Cameron didn't waste any time pouncing on the stunned Captain; the downed man could be exactly what he needed to get himself and the delegates to freedom. Mitchell landed several blows before his word exploded into darkness.

The Captain glared up at his second from beneath Cam's dead weight, "get him off of me."

The two underlings quickly dragged the Colonel off their boss. "Captain, we have arrived over the planet. Would you like the prisoners taken to the facility?"

The Captain watched with barely contained glee as the fresh blood running down the side of Mitchell's face joined that which had already saturated the back of his t-shirt. He nodded, "make sure the delegates get a good look at him first though. I don't them getting any bright ideas of their own." He dragged himself to his feet, doing his best to ignore the sharp pains that were making themselves know after Mitchell's assault; each new flare made him that much more determined to discover the man's identity and get his money's worth from him.

The guards each grabbed an arm of the downed man, not exactly trying to be gentle as both had sustained bruises and humiliation at his hands. The Captain followed a few steps behind his men; he would ensure that the delegates got the message. Of course, that meant traipsing all the way to the other side of the ship; he'd realized back in that fated conference room that the mediator was a military man and therefore needed to be kept far away from the delegates lest he make some insane escape attempt. He hadn't risen to the 'rank' of Captain by being wrong.

He absently kicked at the bottom of the man's feet as he waited for the guards to open the door to the delegate's cell. At least _they _were behaving themselves.

Ambassador Marina Shaud looked up from her corner as the cell door opened; while she and her fellow delegates had been fed regularly, this was the first time anyone had entered their cell at a non-meal time. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the unconscious figure that was flung to the ground in the middle of the room. She'd watched this same man enter a room twice before, and she hadn't been able to take her eyes from him then either. As cliché as it sounded, he'd taken her breath away that first day of negotiations; he was incredibly good looking, intelligent, strong but respectful, and above all, a true gentlemen. Marina cursed her luck, under any other circumstances she would have pursued him for all she was worth, but she'd had a job to do in that conference room and nothing was going to distract her from getting a fair deal for her people. Now, taking in his battered form, she wished she'd tried to convince him to simply run away with her. Blood dripped from the side of his face, quickly forming a small pool beneath his head; the facial features she'd admired so much back Uglop were marred by dark bruising and random knots of swelling. However, the sight that horrified her the most were the long, angry, red welts that criss-crossed the muscular planes of his back.

Minister Clifton Brogan shared his fellow delegate's horror at what their captors had done. The mediator was a man he'd begun to look up to in the brief time they'd know each other; he'd run the proceedings with an efficiency that the Minister had rarely seen in negotiations. That didn't mean that Brogan hadn't argued adamantly for his country's rights and privileges. He watched with trepidation as the Captain entered the room and stood over the unconscious man.

"I want you all to take a very good look at your mediator; this is what happens if you attempt an escape. As this was his third attempt, it was dealt with even more harshly. If you continue to behave yourselves, you have my utmost assurances that you will survive your time with us unscathed."

The Captain searched each of their faces' briefly, seeing mainly fear and anger there, but very little defiance. A small smile of satisfaction crossed his face as he turned and exited the cell, leaving his guards to transport their troublesome prisoner to the facility.

Brogan's eyes stayed locked on the fresh blood stain the now marred the floor of the cell as the door closed. He quickly turned to the other delegates, "we must rescue him."

Vice Chancellor Robain scoffed in disbelief, "If you haven't noticed, _Minister_, we are in need of rescue ourselves. Besides, the mediator is obviously a military man, if he couldn't escape what gives you the thought that we would have the slightest chance of succeeding?"

"We can not stand by and do nothing." Marina moved to stand next to the Minister in the center of the room, "they will kill him."

"And why should we help him anyway? According to the Captain, he was attempting to escape, apparently not at all concerned that he was leaving us behind."

Brogan couldn't hide his animosity toward the man as Robain ranted; he'd caused the majority of the problems during the negotiations and apparently was still intent on doing so. "We all have spent two days in his presence; can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you think the mediator would not bring back help?"

Silence reigned in the room as everyone considered the Minister's words.


	4. Chapter 4

General Hank Landry eyed the IOA representative with disgust; he knew there were times that the weasel faced man had actually helped the program, but that didn't mean the General had to enjoy his visits. "What can I do for you Mr. Woolsey?"

Woosley knew that was as much of an invitation to enter the office as he was ever likely to get; he adjusted his glasses and primly folded himself into a chair facing the massive desk. "The IOA has been looking into the situation on PX4-G12. The raw Dasnium available there is essential to the progression of the F-303 program, and we can't get it until the peace talks are concluded. It is imperative that you get those delegates back as safely and quickly as possible." He smoothed the front of his Dockers, waiting for the response he knew was coming, the General hated being ordered around by the IOA. Woolsey watched with trepidation as the storm clouds brewing in the General's eyes seemed to expand and fill the entire room; the growl that accompanied them might as well have been rolling thunder.

"You should count yourself lucky that SG-1 was not here to hear you say that; I doubt very much that you'd still be alive right now if they had been." Landry leaned forward over the desk, pinning the IOA watchdog with a steely look, "the SGC is putting all our resources to finding _Col Mitchell_; if we happento find the delegates as well, so be it."

Woolsey shrank back as far as the padded chair would allow, instantly realizing his mistake and silently agreeing with the General that SG-1 would most likely have killed him on the spot; especially Teal'c. While the Jaffa was fiercely protective of his entire team, he seemed to have taken Mitchell under his wing so to speak. As it was, Landry looked like he was ready to take over in their absence.

"General, I- of course the IOA is-"

"Save it, and I suggest you get the hell out of my office. I'll keep the IOA informed on the search." Landry slumped back into his chair as soon as Woolsey cleared the door frame. On one hand he could understand their position- the Dasnium could mean huge advancements for the 303 program, but he wasn't about to allow them to interfere with the search for one of his own.

His 2IC had now been missing for a little over two weeks. The drop in morale was noticeable throughout the base, but more so in those who worked closely with SG-1 everyday. The only good news in regards to the whole fiasco was that they weren't dealing with the Ori; for once, they had been quiet.

"I saw Woolsey leave."

Landry looked up to find his daughter standing forlornly in the doorway. Carolyn was one of the strongest women he'd ever met- she took after her mother that way, but right now she simply looked lost. Her puffy, red rimmed eyes spoke plainly of sleepless nights spent worrying about the man she loved. The General hadn't exactly been thrilled about the relationship when they started dating; theirs was a dangerous job and he couldn't bear to see her hurt. No one would ever be good enough for his little girl, but Mitchell was likely as close as anyone could ever come to it and more importantly he could see how much they loved each other. He sincerely wished he could do something to ease her current pain.

"I'm sorry Carolyn, there's nothing new." His heart broke as he watched her face fall even more; he tentatively made his way toward her and placed an arm around his daughter's shoulders. Surprisingly, she leaned into the touch. "We'll find him."

Lam merely nodded, knowing that her voice would betray her fear. She'd been well aware of the dangers his job entailed when they'd started dating, in fact she'd lived this once before when he'd been captured by the Sodan, but none of that meant she wasn't scared to death right now. Going home to their empty apartment everynight hadn't helped much either. Cameron was well liked by all the neighbors even though they'd only lived there two months; several had asked about him since he'd been missing, and Carolyn had found it extremely difficult to answer their questions without breaking down completely. After the first week she'd just moved into her office at the Mountain; keeping herself busy with work anytime she found sleep elusive, which was fairly often. Carolyn knew her staff had most likely heard her crying most nights, but thankfully they were discrete enough not to bring it up; offering her silent support in anyway they could.

After soaking in his comfort for a few minutes, Carolyn straightened and discretely wiped at her damp eyes; "Lt Frost regained consciousness this morning, he'll be off for another week then light duties until he comes out of the cast in 8 weeks."

Landry nodded, acknowledging the change in conversation and her demeanor as much as he was her report on the Lieutenant's condition. "I've got a meeting with SG-1 in a minute, you're welcome to join if you'd like."

Carolyn considered the invitation for a second; she knew he father was just doing his best to keep her in the loop, but right now she'd rather not hear how they hadn't made any progress in the last week. It was simply too hard. "No thanks, I need to get back to the infirmary."

Landry watched her leave, understanding her need to keep busy. "Get some sleep," he called after her, not really expecting her to follow his order.

Twenty minutes later he was wishing he could have followed her and avoided his current state of frustration. He was literally ready to bang his head against the table; surprisingly, Vala beat him to it.

The thunk resounded loudly through her skull, but she couldn't seem to work up the motivation to lift her head and rub at the now tender spot. Silence reigned as everyone else around the table considered mimicking her actions; it had been a long sixteen days and the frustration was at an all time high. "Okay, let's go back to the basics. What do we know about the Coalition?"

The others had to strain to hear her voice, muffled as it was by the briefing table and her arms covering her head.

"Well they've got an armada of what, twelve smuggling ships."

"They have no known ties to any other race or smuggling organization."

"I have heard rumors of their involvement in several kidnappings such as this in years past," Teal'c finally intoned after several seconds of silence.

Vala's head finally perked up at that, "that's right! But haven't they always acted a middleman, so to speak?"

"That could make sense," Daniel nodded thoughtfully. "We wouldn't have known they were involved if they hadn't dragged Mitchell down to a couple of planets; that could be how they've avoided detection before."

"So, you're saying that they're going to hand the delegates off to a third party so _they_ can ransom them back to their respective nations?" Carter couldn't help but let a little skepticism into her voice, "seems like a lot of work."

"Probably not considering how much it reduces the risk to them. That could mean trouble for Mtichell though; there are several groups that would love to get their hands on him just for revenge, not to mention the information they think they could gain about Earth." Daniel left the main question unsaid, knowing that it was racing around the confines of everyones' heads just as it was in his.

Had the sale already taken place? And if not, could they get a location in time to crash the party?

**Thanks for the reviews everyone, please keep them coming. I know we really haven't seen much of Cam yet, but you will soon, I promise.**


	5. Chapter 5

Cameron tried to blink away the blurred vision as he looked around the bare room without moving anything other than his eyes; he'd learned that lesson several times over already. He was seriously getting sick of waking up to this view. Actually he was sick of the headache that came along with the view. He had to admit though that cool stone of the floor felt absolutely wonderful against his flushed skin; the infection had set in quickly after his recent punishment. In addition, the stone floor informed him that they had been moved, most likely to a planet. Now he might have a real chance of getting them all out of this mess.

He waited a minute for his stomach to settle- what he wouldn't give for some compazine right now- before attempting to move; of course the movement immediately floored him again as the white hot agony erupting across his back overshadowed all other sensation. _Note to self._

Mitchell blinked his eyes back open after the pain had subsided to a dull roar, which finally brought his hands into focus. Thankfully he managed to catch himself before a full-on belly laugh could escape, could these people be any more idiotic? Who in their right mind would shackle a captive with their hands in front of them; that was just asking for trouble.

Gritting his teeth, Cam propped himself up against the wall of his cell and reached for his lucky boots.

There were four things that Lt Col Cameron Mitchell believed in with all his heart: faith, love, skill and luck; in fact, he'd had the symbol for each- a cross, a heart, a royal flush of cards, and a horseshoe- painted on every single flight helmet he'd ever worn. And right now both his lucky boots and his lock picking skills were going to serve him well. His lucky boots were nearly worn through and extremely ragged, the supplies officer kept trying to force him into a new pair, but Cameron wasn't about to jinx himself. They weren't his lucky boots for nothing and their ragged state was about to come in very handy as it allowed him to pull the thin metal support strip from the heel of his boot. That done, he put a small bend in the end and inserted it into the locking mechanism of one of the shackles. He allowed a small, satisfied smile to grace his face at the resulting 'pop' as the cuff fell away from his wrist.

That smile quickly disappeared as his cell door swung open.

Ok, so maybe his lucky boots weren't working up to their full potential today; here he had the perfect opportunity for escape but he knew there was no way he could force his body to move quickly enough to make use of it.

Cam's jaw nearly hit the floor when Minister Brogan's head cleared the door frame; his shrewd gray eyes drank in Cameron's condition for a second before he disappeared again. Mitchell could hear whispering in the hall and just knew that one of the guards would find them if they stayed in corridor too long. "Minister, I think you'd better move that discussion in here before someone sees you," he was surprised at the weakness in his own voice.

Brogan didn't bother to voice his agreement as he ushered the other nine delegates through the partially open door; checking to make sure the door wouldn't lock automatically, he shut the heavy door as quietly as possible after the last delegate had slipped into the cell. The Minister knew that they were taking a great risk in trying this escape, but he had never been one to resign himself to the whims of the fickle mistresses of fate. Besides his conscience wouldn't allow him to do nothing while he knew that the Mediator was being treated so harshly.

Marina was at Cameron's side the instant she came through the door, "Mediator, I am so glad that you are awake, this might have been rather awkward otherwise." She gave him a gentle smile as she stabilized the cuff so he could unlock it with minimal difficulty.

"Call me uh- Shaft," he finished finally as he allowed Brogan and another delegate the help him to his feet.

"But that's not your true name." It was more of a statement than a question.

"No, I think it's best for everyone involved if you don't know my real name."

One of the female delegates cleared her throat, "they are planning to sell us." She continued when everyone looked up at her in surprise, "I heard two of the guards speaking outside of our cell one night."

Cam dropped his head as the petite woman reported what she had heard that night. He might not be able to get them out of here, but if he could just get a message to his team, he could stop that auction. "So do we have a plan for blowing this popsicle stand?" His question was met with a sea of blank stares, "right, fly be the seat of our pants it is."

**STARGATE: SG-1**

"Rodney, we have a very long list of planets to explore; you said yourself that the signal may have been nothing." Somehow Elizabeth managed to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She honestly couldn't remember if this was the eleventh or twelfth time he'd come to her with the request since the mission had been cut short a week ago.

McKay winced inwardly, that was true, he had said that, but something in his gut was telling him that there was something there. And his gut was wrong less often than he was, which was really saying something. "True, but we won't know that for sure until I can go back and make a thorough exploration of the entire area. Look, we haven't found any evidence of life other than the ruins, so maybe this is the weapon we have been looking for. Maybe it is an outpost of some sort; of course it could also be their version of a microwave," he muttered under his breath, quiet enough that Elizabeth had to strain to hear it. "I mean, you can't just ignore something like this. I'm always expected to save the day, pull another miracle out of my ass every time someone is in danger, and fine, I can do that, but-"

The pitch of Rodney's voice had risen quite a bit over the last five minutes of the argument and Elizabeth could only wonder how long it would take him to reach ultrasonic levels if she didn't give in. "Fine, there's an opening early tomorrow afternoon. Is that soon enough for you?"

"I suppose it will have to do," he replied drolly before stalking out of the office. In all honesty he was pleasantly surprised that there'd been an opening at all, let alone as soon as the next day. His quick mind instantly began forming a packing list for the trip; he was lucky to get this second chance, and Rodney knew there was no way he'd get a third simply because he forgot a piece of equipment. Time and resources were still vital commodities on Atlantis.

A rumble from McKay's stomach soon interrupted his thoughts and he realized with a start that it was well past dinner. Performing an about-face at the entrance to his lab, he headed for the mess hall; he always worked more efficiently on a full stomach. Besides which, Carson would read him the riot act for not watching his blood sugar if he was caught missing another meal.

Unsurprisingly, he found John and Carson eating a late dinner at one of the tables. Rodney plopped his tray down across the table from them, not caring that he may be interrupting a private moment, "we're going back."

Sheppard simply looked at him in confusion for a minute before Rodney's self-satisfied grin registered and a memory clicked into place. "All your whining finally paid off, huh?"

"I do _not_ whine."

"Oh aye, just like ye didn't faint- twice," Beckett's bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

McKay growled in frustration, taking the ribbing a bit less good-naturedly than it was given and knowing that he would never live down the incident; "I passed out from _manly hunger_!"

John couldn't help but take the smallest bit of satisfaction in Rodney's outrage; however, he figured a lot less fur would fly if he simply changed the subject now. "Yeah Carson, you'd love this place, it poured the entire time we were there."

Now it was the doctor's turn to growl, "one of these days I'm goin' to drag ye back to Scotland so ye can see that it dinna rain constantly."

"Right;" he drew out the word, giving the Scottish doctor a decidedly mischievous grin. "So McKay, when we going back?"

Carson stood and picked up his tray before McKay could answer. "Aye, well whenever ye do go back, be careful; I dinna want to be summoned to the gateroom for yeh lot anytime soon."

John couldn't help but watch as Carson walked away, knowing that the man wasn't actually mad at him but still sad to see him go. "So, what are we going to find there?"

"Honestly, no idea."


	6. Chapter 6

This was absolutely ridiculous, there was simply no other word for it; trying to get ten civilian diplomats to stop arguing and move quietly long enough to escape a fortified compound. That and the fact that the only person with any expertise in that area also happened to be the only one that could barely stand on his own two feet. Yup, completely ridiculous.

Cameron stifled a groan as Marina adjusted her hold around his waist, jostling his abused torso.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Mediator," she ducked her head as a blush covered her cheeks, "I mean, Shaft." Now was neither the time nor the place to dwell on why she felt like a giggling school girl every time she came near this man; she was a grown woman after all. Marina knew she probably didn't need to support him as much as she was, but he seemed to run into the wall far less often if she kept an arm around him.

Robain rounded on them before Mitchell had a chance to accept her apology, "shut up! Are you _trying_ to get us caught?"

"One more word out of you Vice Chancellor and I promise I will find a way to leave you here," Brogan hissed from the front of the group. As the Mediator had been incapacitated so severely, it had been decided that the Minister should be the one to lead the group. It hadn't hurt that he was the only one guaranteed not to argue with the other Minister from his nation, a man who just happened to have counted the turns when they were led into the compound. So far they had only hit three dead ends.

A deep growl and an if-looks-could-kill glare from Mitchell was all that was needed to effectively halt the escalating argument. Rather than risking any more noise, he simply waved them on with the arm that wasn't wrapped around Marina's shoulders for support. Cam tried to depend on her a little as he could; not that the ambassador couldn't take it- she was a solidly built woman who obviously took care of herself, but the more of his own weight that he could take, the less he would slow them down. From the sounds of things, not everyone had agreed that coming back for him was a sound idea; and Cameron would be damned if any of them got hurt because of him.

The group rounded another corner with a minimum of muttering; they caught their breath as one at the sight of a solid looking door blocking the end of the corridor. The thin strip of daylight shining from the crack at the bottom was an extremely welcomed scene.

In the excitement of the moment, Robain and the others rushed toward the door, neglecting to take the proper precautions of checking each alcove as they passed.

Mitchell deliberately slowed Marina as she too made to charge forward; he shook his head at her confused look and slipped his arm from her shoulders. As silently as his battered body would allow, Cam moved toward the nearest inlet; he surveyed the thirty-foot corridor for several long seconds before he was satisfied that it was well and truly empty.

He turned back just in time to see two events happen simultaneously: Marina getting bowled over by two guards emerging from the next inlet and the other delegates throwing open the heavy door and running straight into the arms of several more guards.

"No!"

Cameron launched himself at the guard who was in the process of bringing a decidedly lethal looking knife to the Ambassador's throat. That the rest of the delegates were currently frozen in shock and fear, staring at the weapons aimed their way, completely escaped his notice. His flight ended in a four person dog pile. Cam landed as many blows as he could to whatever body part he could reach, not really knowing who any of them belonged to in the confusion. Brief flashes of metal told him that the knife was still flying around somewhere, which meant he needed to get Marina and himself out of the fray _now_. His hand finally landed on what felt like a shoulder, but was definitely covered by a silky garment; knowing that their attackers would never wear such a fabric, he gave the shoulder a hard shove. Mitchell was rewarded when he watched Marina tumble out of the pile and toward the rest of the delegates who had retreated back into the hall. Their chances of escaping had gone from slim to nil, but he was really hoping he could still keep them all alive.

Cam rallied as a new surge of adrenaline coursed through his body. The natural stimulant was enough to mask the pain of the blows he received as he continued to fight the two guards, but it wasn't enough to deaden the pain of a knife blade slicing through skin and muscle just below the curve of his collar bone.

"Enough!" The Captain's roar stopped all activity of both his prisoners and his employees.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing. Please keep them coming, they're motivation for me to write faster.**

Brogan held a hand to the bleeding wound at his temple as he took in the scene unfolding before him. He wasn't the only delegate that was bleeding although none appeared to be seriously injured. Marina lie dazed at their feet seemingly unable to take her unfocused eyes off the mediator and the two men still holding him to the ground. The Minister's guilt deepened as he took in the new injuries that the Mediator had incurred; that knife would not be sticking out of his shoulder if Brogan hadn't insisted they make this insane escape attempt.

Cam tried to control his rising panic; one of the guards had decided that the best way to subdue him would be to sit on his chest, thus making it extremely difficult for him to breath. That and the pain signals coming in from every part of his body quickly threatened to override any coherent thought processes in his brain. He struggled weakly, trying to dislodge the guard, but that only served to reduce his airflow further as the guard settled more of his weight onto Cameron.

The Captain eyed the cowering group of delegates, angry that his warning had not been heeded. "Who is responsible for this?"

"I am."

The gasped confession from the man at his feet held very little surprise for the Captain. He heard one of the delegates start to object, but the man was silenced by a glare and a shake of the head from the Mediator. "Very well, stand him up." In all honesty, the Captain had no problem punishing the Mediator again, even if he hadn't been the instigator. The delegates would still learn their lesson and he had found that his buyers tended to pay more for undamaged goods.

Mitchell's vision nearly grayed out completely and the world tilted frantically as he was hauled off the floor to stand on incredibly unstable legs. He could only watch despondently and try to keep his balance as the Captain's second in command reached down to pull the leather lacing from his boot. Cam's hands were wrenched up behind his back and the leather cord wrapped tightly around his wrists.

A feral smile brightened the Captain's face when Mitchell winced as the forced movement pulled at the knife still patruding from his shoulder. He watched as several of the delegates struggled ineffectually against his guards, "I warned you what would happen if you caused trouble. However, it appears good fortune had smiled on you today as your Mediator has volunteered to be punished in your sted." He reached out quickly and flicked the hilt of the knife.

Cameron gave an involuntary cry of pain and dropped to his knees despite the men that had been holding him upright in the first place. What little color had been in his face drained instantly as he tried to keep himself from passing out completely or throwing up, neither option was really all that appealing. The snapping of another one of his ribs beneath the Captain's boot only added insult to injury.

The Captain looked up to where some of the delegates continued to fight back against his guards; he knew that it was only fear for their own wellbeing that kept them from actually overcoming his men. "Take them back to containment; I will deal with this irritation."

That this was seriously getting old was the only thought Cameron's sluggish brain could come up with as he was once again forcibly dragged to his feet. Somehow, the increase in pain seemed to trigger release of another large amount of catecholamines; the adrenaline that surged through his system managed to clear his head more than it had been in days. He hid this fact to the best of his ability as the Captain dragged him toward the door, slouching his body and forcing the Captain to work even harder.

The Captain grunted as he tried to maintain a hold on Mitchell's sweat-slicked body. "I thought you might like to see exactly how close you came to freedom Mediator, because for you, there will not be another chance. You have forced me to alter my schedule." He made Cameron turn and look at him, "I hate being forced to do anything. Therefore, to ensure to you can not _force_ me to do anything else, I will simply break your legs. It's a primitive tactic, I know, but effective."

They'd finally reached the heavy door that the delegates had seen as their salvation; and Cam found that the sight of a sandbag wall just through the open door, was his.

Just before they crossed the threshold, the pilot whirled and head-butted the Captain as hard as he could without knocking himself unconscious. Realizing that he must have hit the right spot as the Captain dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks, Mitchell turned and staggered through the door, slamming it shut with his hip once on the other side. He forced himself to ignore the ringing in his ears as he put all his weight into the top couple of layers of the sandbag wall, toppling at least a dozen of the heavy bags into the path of the door.

Cameron allowed himself a brief moment of rest as he tried to get his bearings. The compound sat on a large hill partially surrounded by woods. Just above the roof line of the building he could see the hull of a ship silhouetted by one of the setting suns. He was just rounding the corner of the compound when another silhouette down in the valley caught his eye.

He would know that sight anywhere. It was a Stargate.

His eyes flicked between the ship and the Stargate, weighing his options; the Stargate offered him a way out- _if_ he could make it all the way down there, but he could most likely get a message to the SGC from the ship- _if_ they were within communications range and _if_ he could get it sent before getting caught again.

The ship offered too many _ifs,_ soStargate it was.

He took off for the woods in the direction of the gate wishing he could wrap his arms around himself to stabilize his ribs. Unfortunately, Cam was forced to skid to a halt five trees into the forest; turned out what he thought was a gently rolling hill could, for all practical purposes, be classified as a cliff. He decided to think of it as just a very steep hill. Mitchell jogged up and down the top of the hill a few yards in each direction, trying to find the least hazardous way down. The _hill_ appeared to be mostly mud with the occasional boulder and tree thrown in for good measure, but it was the fifteen foot drop off at the bottom that had him worried.

Cameron whipped around, nearly losing his balance, as an explosion sounded from the compound; they'd blown the door. Not as much of a head start as he'd hoped for, but certainly more of one than he expected to get. There was one good thing about the hill in front of him, he was probably a lot more willing to risk his life getting down it than the men chasing him were, and therefore would be moving a lot faster. Speaking of which…

Turning, he took several quick steps down the hill before his feet slid out from underneath him. Crazily enough, that turned out to be a good thing for once; he found that sliding half on his butt allowed him to use his elbows for steering.

Cam was about two-thirds of the way down when he heard the voices above him; thus far he'd done a great job avoiding the larger rocks and trees, but with his attention diverted up the hill, his feet managed to find a partially buried outcropping of rock. Cameron's considerable momentum catapulted him into the air even as the jarring force of hitting the rocks traveled up through his legs. The landing was softer than he'd considered it might be in the half second flight he'd had to think about it, but it was still hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. He felt every stone and sapling strike his body as he hurtled down the remainder of the hill; occasionally he'd be able to focus down the hill, the drop off coming closer each time. Just before the ground dropped out from underneath him, a intensely sharp pain lanced up his right leg causing his brain to take a temporary leave of absence so that he barely felt his final impact with the terra firma.

It took Mitchell several long seconds to figure out that he'd actually stopped moving, and then several more for his brain to catch up with his vision and realize that the Stargate was a mere thirty yards from where he lay gasping for breath like a landed fish. Cam scrambled drunkenly to his feet even as he realized something was _very _wrong. He'd only seen that type of Stargate once in his life.

_How_ _the hell had he gotten to Pegasus?!_

"Well Toto, you're not in Kansas anymore," he breathed to himself as he staggered toward the gate, his right leg unable to bare weight. Cam chuckled humorlessly at the irony of the situation; he'd managed to escape having his leg broken by the Captain only to do it himself.

Finally reaching the DHD, he wracked his sluggish brain for a gate address that wouldn't get him killed. Atlantis had a shield that they wouldn't lower without an approved IDC and their latest alpha site had been overrun by the Wraith shortly before he'd started the negotiations on Uglop. Talk about being screwed.

A dull thud broke the relative silence behind him as Cameron continued to debate his options. The first Coalition member had reached the bottom of the hill; fortunately the descent hadn't agreed with him and he remained motionless where he'd landed. But Cam knew his friends wouldn't be far behind, so he punched in the only address that came to mind. The puddle roared to life just as the first two conscious members of the Coalition made somewhat softer landings next to their compatriot. Mitchell turned and didn't look back as he raced for the gate; he had to get that wormhole shut down before they could follow him.

The freezing rain pelted his face the instant he emerged from the puddle; he didn't break stride in his bid for the DHD. His hand descended on the center button just as the two guards emerged from the wormhole. Cam was forced to duck behind the DHD as they opened fire on him; this so was not his day. He waited for them to empty their clips before racing for the woods as quickly as his one healthy leg would carry him.

Thankfully, the sun had set; the dim twilight casting plenty of shadows for him to hide in. The forest was dense and after only thirty minutes of a very intense cat and mouse game, Cameron decided he'd lost them for good. Grateful that he'd always been blessed with a good sense of direction, he circled back toward the gate, being sure to keep a sharp eye and ear out for his pursuers.

Two minutes later he was face down in the mud.

The mind was willing- barely, but the body flat out refused to obey his commands any longer and no amount of adrenaline or stubbornness was going to change that. Giving in to the inevitable, he dragged himself to the nearest downed tree. Mitchell flinched and nearly passed out completely when his injured leg came into contact with a thick branch. He hid himself to the best of his ability before allowing his body to relax slightly. He'd permit himself an hour of rest before heading for the gate again; Cam needed to be certain that he'd lost the Coalition before he attempted to contact Atlantis.

He shivered violently as the cold finally settled in to his fevered body; just one hour he told himself as the grey world around him slowly faded to black.


	8. Chapter 8

Teyla continued to stare at the dog tags that Sheppard held in front of her. "Col Mitchell, he is the leader of SG-1, is he not?"

"Yeah," John dropped his eyes back to his friend's bruised visage. They'd met nearly a decade ago on assignment in Afghanistan; although almost exact opposites, they'd gotten along well from the beginning. He could still see the look of child-like excitement on Cameron's face as he'd piloted a jumper for the first time two months ago. Their shared love of flying had always been their bond, that and a _slightly_ twisted sense of humor. "Damn Mitchell, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Several thousand light years away, Carson jumped visibly when his radio chirped in his ear, just barely stopping himself from dropping the test tube and pipette in his hands. People always wanted him at the most inconvenient of times.

"Dr. Beckett and a medical team to the gateroom prepared for off would rescue."

"Oh bloody hell," he murmured as he quickly secured his current experiment. He grabbed his field kit, hefting the familiar weight over his shoulder, before he extracted his "Rodney" kit from its shelf as well. There was only one team off world right now, which meant that he would most likely be treating John or Rodney. Of course, Ronan and Teyla seemed to find more than their share of trouble too.

An off world rescue meant that his med team would be two marine corpsmen; he jogged into the gate room and was surprised not to find them there waiting for him. He turned to Elizabeth up on the balcony, "Where's my med team?"

"I'm sorry Carson, all the corpsmen are out of radio contact exploring the city. You could take some of your infirmary personnel."

"Nay, no one on duty is trained for off world travel, I won't put them in that kind of danger, and it would take too long to get anyone else." He eyed the open wormhole with unease, "someone's waiting for me there?"

Weir couldn't help but smile slightly as his protective nature shown through. "Ronan and Rodney are waiting for you on the other side.

The doctor cocked his head, wondering who his patient was then, but he decided that he would just find out when he got to the planet. No sense wasting precious time asking questions that would be answered soon anyway. He felt every muscle in his body tense as he approached the wormhole, he really hated this part; squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as possible he took a deep breath and stepped through.

Ronan and Rodney rolled their eyes at each other as Beckett emerged with his shoulders hunched and a resigned grimace on his face. "Relax Carson, you're alive."

The Scot resisted the urge to pat himself down and sent an annoyed glace at McKay, before blinking back the rain that was already running into his eyes, "Aye, I am. Now where's my patient?" He shivered slightly at the drop in temperature from Atlantis.

"Sheppard and Teyla found him about five kilometers southwest of here."

"Wait, _found_?" Beckett swung his pack from his shoulder and pulled two saline bags from within.

Ronan and McKay watched in confusion as the doctor unzipped his already sodden field jacket and stuffed the saline bags up under his arms before zipping the coat again. "Carson?"

"If the lad's been out in this and injured, then he's most likely hypothermic; he'll need warm fluids as soon as possible. This isn't ideal, but it'd do for now."

Carson set off after the other two; thankful that his patient wasn't one of the team members, but wondering what he would find when they reached John and Teyla's position. Fifteen minutes of hard hiking later, he found out. "Oh crap, isn't that-"

"Yeah Doc, its Col Mitchell."

Beckett couldn't help but think that the man had looked one hell of a lot better two months ago when he'd visited Atlantis. The leader of SG-1 had obviously been through a lot recently; his eyes flicked over the unconscious man's face as he dug in his pack for the thermometer. The lack of shivering was not a good sign. "Teyla, take his temp for me would yeh please, lass."

Carson's other hand dropped to Mitchell's neck, not liking the thready pulse or the shallow respirations, they needed to get the Colonel back to Atlantis as soon as possible. To do that, he needed to stabilize the knife blade sticking out of Mitchell's shoulder; he padded around the blade before lifting his torso slightly to secure a figure eight wrap around the wound. Carson stopped when the bandage came back crimson; he lifted Mitchell slightly higher with John's help and let out a low whistle at what he found there. "Ach, I'm going to need a bloody shovel to dig all the dirt out of these wounds." Beckett expertly ran his hands over the rest of the Colonel's body, muttering to himself as he went, "bilateral rib fractures, too many lacerations to count, abdominal bruising, fractured tibia and fibula. Teyla, luv, have yeh got a temperature for me yet," he asked as he started an IV of one of the recently warmed saline bags in Mitchell's exposed hand.

Teyla looked up with alarm in her eyes, "eighty-seven degrees."

"Oh crap, get the backboard from my pack, now." The next few minutes were a blur as Mitchell was bundled into blanket after blanket- trying to maintain what precious little body heat he still had, and secured to the collapsible backboard. Ronan and John hefted the patient between them while Carson held the saline bag aloft and ensured that the knife blade remained stationary. He didn't want to worry the others unnecessarily, but judging by the position of the blade, it had nicked the sub-clavian artery and any movement could cause the Colonel to bleed out.

Cameron remained completely oblivious throughout the proceedings.

Teyla leaned over to pick up the medical field kit that Carson had left behind on the log in his concern over Mitchell. Underestimating the weight of the pack, she slung it straight around her shoulder, and promptly fell on her ass as the considerable momentum of the kit dragged her down. The resulting silence was broken by a single snort, then another, and another, before laughter echoed around the small clearing.

"Damn, Teyla, maybe you should think about hitting the gym a little more often."

Carson leaned toward John, "yeh know she's going to kick your arse for that, don't yeh?"

John nodded as he watched McKay hand the pack off to Teyla once she'd regained her feet, "yeah, but it was worth it."

Rodney knew it was a matter of pride for her now. "Jeez Carson, that thing must weigh forty pounds."

"Aye, and I need every bit of it with yeh lot around."

Teyla adjusted the pack to fit her more slender frame and headed off after the others. It wasn't as if the pack was too heavy to carry, but she was having to work a bit harder to keep up. Unbidden, images from all the times she'd chastised Dr Beckett for struggling to stay with the group filled her mind. Maybe now she knew why.

They traveled in silence for several minutes before Rodney voiced the thought that had popped into all their heads at one point, "are we sure this is him? I mean, it's a hell of a long way from the Milky Way."

"After we get him stabilized, I'll run a DNA test with the blood sample I took from him when he came to Atlantis." He chuckled softly at their confused and horrified looks, "I didn't stick him with a needle just for the fun of it; he received the ATA gene therapy." The Colonel had been ecstatic when the therapy had taken, running straight for the jumper bay as soon as he'd been cleared.

Carson had to wonder if all pilots lived to fly; the few he knew certainly did.

Carson continued to perform vitals checks every few minutes as they moved quickly toward the gates. Although the team had joked a bit during the trip, he knew they were all worried about Mitchell; only Sheppard had known him well before his recent visit but they had all enjoyed hanging out with him. And while the man's condition wasn't life threatening right now, it could quickly degrade to that; especially with the apparent infection already festering in many of the lacerations along his back and arms. Beckett hadn't wanted to say anything until he was sure, but the majority of those marks looked suspiciously like whip cuts.

John and Ronan lowered their precious cargo to the ground as McKay dialed the gate. Sheppard was thankful that Cameron didn't weigh any more than he did, not that he'd admit it to Ronan who didn't even appear winded. He moved to run hand through his consistently wild hair just as he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

"_Everybody down!"_

In the time they'd been together, they'd all learned to follow directions like that without question. They made it to the ground a fraction of a second before the gunfire started. Beckett dove to protect his patient while the others brought their guns to bear on the two men raining lead down on them from either side of the clearing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry everyone, time got away from me so this one is super short, but at least it takes care of the cliff haanger.**

The firefight was short but intense; their attacker's pistols no match for the P-90 fire. John visually scanned the tree line as he waited through several seconds of silence before he stood, "everybody alright?"

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!"

John and Teyla paused on their way to ensure that their attackers were well and truly down and tried their best to hide their smirks; only McKay. Cason and Ronon were already moving toward the downed man. Beckett swatted his hands away from the injury.

The astrophysicist was on all fours, a pained expression on his face. "I've been shot in the ass, _again_!" Rodney shot Beckett an indignant look as the doctor poked at his gaping wound, "oww! Genius bleeding to death here!"

"Ach, Rodney, that's nay but a scratch, barely even needs stitches." The Scot considered the merits of putting a bandage on the shallow furrow only to have it ripped off in two minutes by his staff. "Ronon, lad, would yeh help our injured Genius through the gate please." Carson watched in amusement as the Runner literally lifted McKay off the ground with one hand; Rodney started in on the complaints, not pausing to take a breath before the two disappeared into the already open wormhole. He knelt back down next to his other patient, praying that nothing more had happened to the man.

"He ok?"

Beckett looked up into John's worried face, "Aye, there's been no change. Are they-" he broke off, not wanting to say the actual words.

"Yeah, would have been nice if we could have found who they were, and why they were after Mitchell though." John gave Carson a scrutinizing look as he placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder, "are _you_ alright?"

Carson couldn't help but smile at John's concern over him, "aye, John, I'm fine. I hate to say it, but I'm actually getting used to being shot at." He gave Sheppard's hand a quick squeeze before returning to the business at hand. "Alright, time to get Col Mitchell back to Atlantis so my staff can start fawning over him like they did the first time the lad was here." Ever since they'd realized Sheppard was off the market, the women of Atlantis had been looking for another 'All-American hunk' to drool over, as one of his nurses had put it.

Elizabeth and three of Carson's very competent staff descended on them as soon as they emerged from the wormhole.

"Rodney," he asked as they deposited Mitchell onto the waiting gurney.

"Mr. Dex is escorting Dr McKay to the infirmary; Jennifer is already on her way." Tiffany James, RN and Carson shared a small smile at that. The middle-aged nurse was the only member of the infirmary staff besides Beckett that McKay would let anywhere near him; apparently she'd earned his complete trust after helping him and John care for Carson one of the few times the man had fallen ill. "He also mentioned that Col Mitchell was hypothermic, so I've called ahead for warmed blankets and fluids."

Carson gave her a warm smile, he marveled not for the first time at how wonderful his staff was and how much easier they made his life. "Good lass, off yeh go then, I'll be along in just a wee bit."

Dr Weir seemed to shake out of her silence as the med team moved off with Mitchell, "So Rodney wasn't kidding, it really is Col Mitchell. Is he ok?" Elizabeth cringed as soon as the words left her mouth; the man was obviously not ok, he'd been completely unresponsive, wrapped in half a dozen blankets, and the parts of him she could see were covered in dried blood and bruises.

"Hypothermia, multiple head injuries, shock, massive infection and both his leg and shoulder are likely to require surgery." Beckett ticked his fingers off on one hand as he spoke. Carson knew that the combination of all those factors could well be lethal for some, but he'd read the Colonel's medical file before administering the ATA gene therapy so he knew that Mitchell had survived much worse. "He's strong so he should make a full recovery; it's just going to take awhile. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a couple of patients to see to."

As she watched Beckett hurry away, it suddenly occurred Elizabeth that the entire team was soaked to the skin; she turned to see Sheppard and Teyla still dripping on the gate room floor in front of her. "So, I sent you off to figure out a phantom signal and you come back with the leader of SG-1; want to fill me in?"

John tried to keep his teeth from chattering as the shivering set in, "mind if we change first?"

"I'll meet you in the infirmary in twenty," Elizabeth stated with a small but firm smile.


	10. Chapter 10

Down the hall, Carson was wiping the rain from his face as he strode into the infirmary. He nodded to Jennifer as she entered a curtained off area with a suture kit and a tube of anti-bacterial ointment; the running litany coming from behind the current left little mystery as to its occupant. Ronon stood just outside the curtain, a small smile gracing his face; his posture left the Scot wondering whether he was there to protect McKay or keep him from running. Beckett moved further into the room to where several of his staff were replacing the emergency blankets wrapped around Mitchell with previously warmed fabric ones.

"How's the lad doing?"

Tiffany looked up from her place near Cameron's head, "temp is 93 degrees, BP is 72/59, heart rate's 55, and respiratory rate is 8. All of them are up from what we took in the gate room."

Beckett digested the information as he lifted the blanket to inspect the knife blade in the colonel's shoulder; not surprised to see a bit of renewed bleeding now that the man's temperature was coming up. Unfortunately, his temperature was spiking too quickly for Carson's liking; indicating that the infection was already a systemic one. They needed to get those lacerations cleaned out; Beckett was no forensic pathologist, but Mitchell's injuries spoke of a very interesting story.

"Alright, then let's get a scanner on him. We're moving to the OR as soon as his BP hits 90/65; the colonel can't afford to lose much more blood through this wound. Tiffany check his tags for his blood type please, we'll hang a liter before he goes in.

"He's A positive."

Carson looked up at the sound of Sheppard's voice, "John?"

John hesitated slightly before moving toward the group surrounding his friend, "I was on the medevac that pulled him out of his 302 in Antarctica. Trust me that's one trip I won't be forgetting anytime soon."

Sheppard's mind drifted back to that snowy afternoon as he watched Carson's team continue to work. There hadn't been an inch of the 302 that wasn't damaged; both wings had been shorn off, the nose crumpled so badly that John hadn't even been able to identify what type of aircraft it was. Of course, now he knew that was partly because it was the first 302 he'd ever seen. They'd learned from dispatch that it was the squadron leader's plane, but John nearly had the shock of his life when he'd seen Mitchell's name and call sign painted on the side of the craft just below the shattered canopy. At the time, the extrication and transport had been a blur, but now, two and a half years later, Sheppard could remember every detail.

John allowed himself to blend into the background as he heard Beckett tisk over the five broken ribs and the internal bruising the scanner revealed; it was several minutes before he realized that Teyla and Elizabeth had appeared at his shoulder.

"So…" Weir let her question hang in the empty air.

"So… Rodney found a life sign besides the four of us." The look Weir shot him clearly stated that wasn't the answer she was looking for.

Teyla also caught the glare and decided to bail Sheppard out yet again. "We found Col Mitchell roughly a kilometer from the ruins; it was apparent that he had been attempting to hide from someone. He has been unresponsive since we discovered him."

Elizabeth let that sink in for a minute, apparently the big question of how Mitchell had ended up in Pegasus would have to wait until the colonel woke up. "And what happened to Rodney?"

"We ran into the guys that had been after Mitchell when we got back to the gate. Apparently they though Rodney had a big 'ol bullseye on his ass." John gave a small smirk before he sobered again, "I'd like to send a team of Marine's and Zelenka back to get the bodies and see if we can find out what gate Mitchell came from. If there's a gate that somehow connects to the Milky Way, we need to know about it."

"Right, I'll get that organized." She nodded to where Beckett and his team were headed into the OR, "have Carson call me when he gets Col Mitchell settled."

John and Teyal collected chairs for themselves and Ronon and pulled them over to the area just outside the privacy curtain; the position allowed them to be close to Rodney when Jennifer was finished but also gave them a good view of Cameron. They'd just collapsed into the chairs when the nurse pulled back the curtain revealing a very sleepy Rodney splayed out on his stomach.

"Hey McKay, how you feeling?"

Rodney yawned deeply before giving Ronon a look that could only be described as half indignant, half goofy. "I was shot in the ass, then had a needle jabbed into me several times, how do you _think_ I feel." He paused, a small amused smile appearing, "they gave me the good stuff."

His teammates laughed appreciatively at the off-hand comment; Rodney McKay on morphine ladies and gentlemen.

Sheppard gave a mental sigh of relief, the astrophysicist was going to be just fine. Sure he'd bitch and moan for awhile, milk the injury for all it was worth, but he would live to explore another day. John knew the injury had been far from life threatening, but he worried anytime one of his team so much as got a bad bruise. And he was trying _really_ hard not to think about the way Carson had dove to protect Mitchell from the gun fire, headless of his own welfare. The doctor should never have been put in that situation; John knew he was a little bias, no civillian should be in that position, but especially Carson.

McKay lasted an hour before he started snoring, the rough rattling sound bringing Jennifer back to the bed. She muttered something about stubborn scientists as she checked the bandage quickly, "I told him to go home as soon as I finished."

"I will escort him to his quarters, I am already late leaving for the mainland." Teyla smiled patiently as Rodney mumbled incoherantly and batted wildly at her hands when she gently shook him awake. It took a lot of help from Ronon and John, but the evetually they got McKay upright, mostly; the Athosian slung his arm over her shoulder as he slowly regained coherance. "Please keep me informed of Col Mitchell's condition."

John gave a a nod as he and the runner settled back into their chairs for the wait; they didn't have to wait long before the excitement started. The two men jumped to their feet as one for Carson's assistants burst from the OR at a full run, only to return twenty seconds later with three liters of blood.

They shared a look as they slumped back into their chairs, _that_ was not a good sign.

**STARGATE: SG-1**

"I'm sorry Dr. Weir, could you repeat that."

"Of course General, I said we found Col Mitchell on MX4-97P just a few hours ago." Elizabeth surpressed a snicker as the two star General open and closed his mouth several times without any sound. "He has several injuries, but Dr Beckett is confident that he'll make a full recovery."

Landry continued to struggle to regain his composure, and failed; "how?"

"I'm sorry General, I don't have an answer for you on that one; the colonel has been unconscious since we found him. We do know that he was being pursued by at least two men and several of his injuries indicate torture. How long has he been missing?"

"Just under three weeks." The General ran a hand over his haggard face, "was he alone when you found him?"

"Yes, why?"

"Col Mitchell was negotiating a peace treaty on planet known to the locals as Uglop; he and the rest of the delegates disapeared two days into the talks. Reports indicated that a group called the Coalition was behind it; but the planet has been back in civil war since the delegate disappeared. We need to find them."

Weir quickly considered the repercussions of the General's statement. "I currently have a team headed to the planet where we found Col Mitchell; they're attempting to find out where he gated in from. I'll have them search for any additional life signs."

"I'd appreciate that Dr Weir; we'll keep up the investigation on our end. Oh, and I dare say you'll be getting some more company from this galaxy soon." Landry signed off the connection and turned to Walter as the wormhole closed, "have Col Carter, Dr Jackson and Dr Lam report to the conference room and get a message out to Vala and Teal'c, let them know what's happened."

"Yes sir, but Dr Lam isn't due to report in for another hour."

Landry just nodded absently as he headed for his office.

Five minutes later Samantha Carter and Daniel Jackson were staring at him in abject shock. "Um, how?"

"That's what we all want to know. Unfortunately, Col Mitchell is injured, he's been unconscious since Col Sheppard's team found him. So far there has been nothing to indicate how he arrived in Pegasus." Landry paused knowing that he no longer had their full attention, relief and renewed concern warred for control of their features. "This is a problem on several fronts people."

Jackson nodded, "we still need to find the delegates."

"And we need to know if there's another connection between the Milky Way and Pegasus besides the Atlantis Gate." Sam slumped back into her chair considering the implications of these new revelations, but her mind kept drifting back to Cam. The General had said he was going to be fine, but Sam knew she wouldn't be able to put her mind to rest until she saw him. She knew Beckett was a very competant physcian, but that didn't stop her from wanting Cameron back here where they could keep an eye on him. Unfortunately her sense of duty was also nagging at her consciousness, they still had a job to do and Cam would kill her if he knew she was sitting at his bedside rather than out looking for the delegates. "What are they going to do with Mitchell?"

"He was still in surgery when Dr Weir contacted me; he will remain on Atlantis until Dr Beckett deems that he is fit for gate travel."

Daniel cleared his throat, "you know Carolyn is going to want to be there."

"I've already begun arranging it." Landry was truly looking forward to see his daughter smile for the first time in three weeks. Too bad it would have to wait; there were days when he _really_ hated this job. "Dr Jackson, I would appreciate it greatly if you could tell Carolyn as soon as she gets here. I have to brief SG-3 for their extraction of SG-12."

Sam and Daniel stood to leave when the General effectively indicated that the meeting was over. They stared at each other for several seconds, idiotic grins spreading across their faces, before Sam threw her arms around Daniel. It wasn't a real victory yet, but at least they had Cam back, in a manner of speaking anyway.

They parted as Jackson made his way to the infirmary. He knew that Carolyn had spent almost every waking minute on base since Mitchell had disappeared but that she'd finally been coerced into going home for a real night's sleep last night; he knew because he was the one that had talked her into it. He entered her open office and settled into the chair for the wait.

Dr Lam stopped dead on the threshold of her office door, taking in the sight of Daniel Jackson sprawled out, dead asleep, in one of the chairs. She hated to wake him, she knew he'd lost nearly as much sleep as she had over the last few weeks, but there could be only one reason he was sitting in her office: there was news on Cameron.

She gently shook his shoulder, "Daniel."

Jackson blinked up at her through blurry eyes for several seconds before everything clicked back into place, "Carolyn, we found him." He really did try to grb her before she got too far, but Lam was too quick for his sleep addled state; he finally caught up to her at the entrance to the main infirmary. "He's not here Carolyn; he's on Atlantis."

Suddenly Daniel found his arms full of a friend for the second time in as many hours.

"Is he ok?"

"He was injured, unconscious since they found him. But Dr Beckett thinks he'll be fine, and he's almost as good of a doctor as you are," he added hasitly when her eyes began to well up.

Carolyn knew Daniel was trying to make her feel better, and she knew she should be happy, Cameron was safe. It wasn't that she didn't have confidence in Carson, the Scot was a wonderful doctor and she trusted his judgement implicitly, but she needed to be there.

Jackson instantly recognized the decision in her eyes and cut her off with a pre-epmtive strike, "the General's already working on getting you a ride there."

They'd just broken from their hug when the klaxons sounded and a med team was summonded to the gate room.


	11. Chapter 11

**So, anyone picked up on the relationship that I've been hinting at a bit; in case you haven't there is some mild slash ahead. Thanks for the continued support and I'm sorry for the slow updates, I pormise I'm working on this whenever I can.**

"Hope he's ok."

John looked at Dex in surprise, "didn't realize you guys were close."

"We sparred a couple times while he was here; he's actually pretty good with some of those Sodan moves he uses. Taught me a thing or two."

"He beat you?!" John blurted out.

Ronon gave Sheppard a small smirk, "I didn't say that. I said he's good, which means he's better than you are, but_ I_ still wiped the floor with him." He couldn't quite make out what John was muttering under his breath but he was pretty sure it was something derogatory about him, so he didn't try too hard. "So you pulled him out of Antarctica?"

John looked up in surprise, his momentary animosity forgotten, "yeah, him and a couple other guys." Unbidden the images of all those that had fallien to Anubis's onslaught filled his mind. Finding Cameron alive had been nothing short of a miracle. "Mitchell was the only one we found alive, I was shocked as hell that he was still that way when we got him back to McMurdo. How'd you know?"

Ronon shrugged, "saw the scars when we were sparring, asked him about them." They lapsed into silence as both men considered the new scars Cameron was going to have after his latest adventure.

Sheppard nearly jumped out of his skin when Elizabeth once again appeared at his shoulder without warning.

"Any word from Carson yet?"

"Still in surgery."

The words had no sooner left Ronon's mouth than Beckett pushed through the recovery room door, pulling his bloodied surgical smock off as he walked towards them. The surgery and wound care had taken longer than he expected and he knew the others were anxious for news. He could see the questions in their eyes and gave a humorless smile, "well, if there's a lucky way to be unlucky than the colonel has definitely found it."

"What do you mean, Carson?"

Beckett gave another wry grin as he scratched the back of his neck, "well for one, the lad wouldn't have made it very far on the leg if he hadn't already had an intra-medullary rod in his tibia; both his tibia and fibula were bloody well shattered. And that knife in his shoulder nearly severed his sub-clavian artery. He would have bled out immediately when that blade was snapped if it hadn't also been lodged in his collar bone."

John didn't bother to attempt to hide his relief, "so he's going to be ok? I mean, we saw your assistant run for more blood." He hadn't even wanted to consider losing another friend.

"Aye, the colonel lost more blood than we were prepared for, but he'll come around given time. My staff is cleaning out the last of his lacerations now."

Weir also allowed a small smile of relief, "that's great news Carson. I'm sure Dr Lam will be very happy to hear that when she gets here."

The Scot merely nodded, maintaining a flat affect while Elizabeth and Ronon exited the infirmary discussing the progress of some civilians that Dex had been training. He waited exactly five seconds after they cleared the door frame before he literally blew up in John's face, "I can't believe she doesn't trust me! After all the bloody time we spent together at the SGC and on other assignments you would think that she would realize that I am a half-way competent physician."

"Carson."

"But no, she feels the need to traipse all the way across two bloody galaxies just to look over my shoulder with every move I make." Beckett stalked the length of the infirmary in front of Sheppard, not caring that half his staff was hearing his rant. "Just because he's usually her patient doesn't give her the bloody right to take over my infirmary-"

John raised an eyebrow as he decided that Carson had been spending way too much time around Rodney, he was starting to pick up the physicist's habits; "Carson!"

But the doctor had switched to Gaelic, oblivious to anything and everyone around him. His triad grew louder and meaner, if John's new language skills were any indication, with each passing second; people were starting to stare. To say he was surprised at the Scot's behavior would have been a fairly major understatement; in the past, Beckett had always welcomed second opinions from his colleagues and John knew how much he respected Carolyn Lam. There was definitely an ulterior motive behind this rare flash of Carson's temper. Sheppard made several grabs for Carson's arm, finally he managed to gain purchase on the rampaging physician on the fourth try, "Carson!"

"What!?" Beckett whirled back to face John, his own visage like a thundercloud, angry that the colonel had dared to interrupt him.

"They're engaged."

"Oh," Carson instantly deflated before Sheppard's eyes, "I- I just thought-"

He continued to babble, not realizing that John was slowly directing him to the privacy of his small office; he gently shoved Carson down onto the battered love seat. He knelt in front of him, his hands on Carson's knees. "Now, you want to tell me what that was about; because that was not the Carson Beckett I know and love out there." He watched as Beckett's look of distress intensified just before he dropped his head into his hands and muttered a reply. "You want to run that by me again."

Carson finally looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I keep thinking that it could be you out there. You've been hurt enough times for me to know what that feels like, and this is just as bad, knowing something like this could happen to you." He paused and swallowed hard. "Then I realize how selfish I'm being and that makes me feel even worse; I can't imagine what Carolyn must be going through right now, especially knowing that the colonel has been missing for so long."

John practically jumped onto the couch and pulled Carson into a tight hug, not at all surprised when Carson's arms wrapped around his waist, returning the crushing embrace. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation over the course of their relationship, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. "Hey, come on babe, we've covered this before, remember. We don't know what's going to happen to either of us from day to day, but we can make the most of every minute we have together." John stroked Carson's back, trying to reassure him any way that he could; he hated knowing that Carson was feeling like this and that there was very little he could do about it. He'd felt the same uncertainty and despair the few times Carson had acquired a minor injury or gotten sick; he could only imagine how much worse it was for Carson knowing that his own injuries were occasionally life-threatening and that Carson was the one that was always expected to fix him.

They stayed that way for several long minutes until John was sure they were both feeling marginally better, "hey, let's go grab some dinner. I'm starving and knowing you, you haven't stopped for food since breakfast."

But Carson just shook his head, "Col Mitchell will be coming out of the anesthesia soon; I need to be here."

"Alright, I'll bring you back something." John dropped a lingering kiss on Carson's lips, admiring his lover's dedication even as he worried what it did to his physical and emotional well being.

**STARGATE: SG-1**

Exhaustion hit like a ton of bricks as Carolyn surveyed her domain, although currently it looked one hell of a lot more like a field hospital than a base infirmary. SG-3 had managed to rescue SG-12, but no one from either team had come back completely unscathed. Her gaze searched the room as she mentally tri-aged her eight patients; four fractures, three Ori staff blast wounds, two concussions-

"And a partridge and pear tree," she muttered to herself.

Thankfully it appeared that Williams was the only one that needed immediate surgery. Resigning herself to the fact that it was going to be an incredibly long day and an even longer night, she grabbed the other end of Williams' stretcher and headed for the OR. Her very capable staff would take care of everyone else until she got to them.

Lam tried not to think about how much this would delay her puddle jumper ride to Atlantis, but as much as she loved Cameron, these men needed her more right now.

She knew he would understand.


	12. Chapter 12

**SLASH warning: we do see more of John and Carson's relationship in this chapter.**

Carson's frown deepened the longer he watched the numbers on the thermometer read out climb; they didn't stop until the display read 103.7. He cursed the thermometer soundly as he replaced the damp cloth on the colonel's forehead, sometimes the best remedies were also the oldest. Mitchell had been out of surgery for several hours now and his temperature had yet to level out. To think that just a little while ago he'd been fighting hypothermia.

"How's he doing?"

Beckett looked up to see his lover staring at him from the other side of Mitchell's bed, "John, you should be asleep."

Sheppard shook his head; that was the pot calling the kettle black, "so should you. But you didn't answer my question."

"Aye, I didn't." Carson ran a hand through his already rumpled hair for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He looked up into John's hazel eyes, "the infection is worse than I originally thought. It should respond well to the antibiotics, but they'll take at least a day to get up to therapeutic levels."

Sheppard dropped a hand onto his friend's exposed forearm, tightening his grip a half second later when Cameron's hand jerked beneath his own. Carson and John shared a look of shock before both sprang into action, calling Mitchell's name.

_Cam heard his name and promptly panicked; they couldn't know who he was. He'd worked so hard to keep them from finding out; everyone would be in danger if they knew, him, his team, and the delegates. He ignored the pain that flared with each movement as he struggled against the hands that held him. He had to get a message to the SGC; they needed to know about the auction. That was the whole reason he'd kept trying to escape in the first place. He fought harder as he felt more hands join those already holding him down._

"Bloody hell colonel, you have to calm down!" Beckett threw himself over Mitchell's torso much like he had back on the planet; a sticky wetness beneath his left hand told him that his patient had already torn the stitches in his shoulder.

Sheppard left the two nurses to control Cameron's lower half and moved up to his friend's head, "Cam. Come on Shaft, it's me, Sheppard; Carolyn will kill us if we let you hurt yourself anymore. You have to relax."

_But Cameron continued to fight; they were talking to him, trying to stop him. Cam knew he couldn't give up, the delegates were counting on him, and he was counting on his team. They would make it to the planet in time to stop the auction._

Carson was horrified to feel that Mitchell's blood had started to soak through his scrub shirt. He glanced at the monitors quickly turned to face Tiffany at the foot of the bed, not surprised that she was already holding a syringe of sedative out to him. "Push another liter of A positive too!" Beckett pinned his patient's right arm to the bed, trying to find a vein as quickly as possible. Half a second later he was prevented from completing the injection when John grabbed his wrist.

"Wait!"

Carson tried to object to the forceful hand on his wrist, but John shushed him immediately and leaned further in toward Mitchell. Carson followed suit as soon as he realized his patient was trying to speak.

The colonel continued to thrash for all he was worth, his eyes flashed open but held an utter lack of recognition. "No… no, gotta stop… auction, delegates… get to Worrel's kassa… gotta stop them." The tortured ramblings grew even less coherent as the sedative began to take effect.

After a minute, John looked up, "what the hell is he talking about?"

Carson started the new line that had been placed in his hand just moments before and shrugged, "I have no idea, luv; his fever's quite high, it could be nothing, but we'd better let Elizabeth know. Maybe his team will be able to make a wee bit more of it than we can."

John nodded, "I saw her office light on when I was on my way down here, I'll let her know." He cleared his throat, knowing that Carson wasn't exactly going to be thrilled about his next bit of news. "Zelenka was able to get the coordinates for the gate that Mitchell came in from, it was in Pegasus, we're leaving as soon as he comes up with a viable combination."

"Aye, I figured that would be the case." Beckett forced his thoughts away from all the worst case scenarios his mind had immediately conjured up. He knew John was at risk every time he stepped through the gate, hell, they weren't even all that safe on Atlantis, but knowing what those people had done to Col Mitchell did nothing to decrease his fears.

"I don't suppose you're coming to bed tonight, are you?"

Carson didn't even bother to answer the question, instead dropping a soft kiss on John's lips. "Sleep well, Luv."

Sheppard returned the kiss before slumping out of the infirmary, _trying_ not to pout. Just because he understood Carson's need to be with his patients didn't mean he had to like it. His mind wandered back to Cameron's situation as he moved through the dimmed halls of Atlantis. At least now they knew that he'd gated to MX4-97P from somewhere in Pegasus, but that still didn't answer the question of how he'd gotten to this galaxy in the first place. One thing was obvious though, he'd been brought by the Coalition, which meant they knew about the existence of other galaxies. As far as he knew, none of the civilizations he'd met off world, even the more technologically advanced ones, had any knowledge of life outside of Pegasus.

John glanced up toward Weir's office when he entered the gate room, not at all surprised to see her hunched over her computer, hard at work. The closer he got, the more he realized that she wasn't so much hard at work as she was fast asleep. He had to wonder, not for the first time, if being able to work on eight hours of sleep a _week_ had been a prerequisite for being accepted to the expedition.

He paused for a second in her doorway, debating whether he should wake her. Coming to a decision, he moved around the desk and rested a hand on her shoulder; if Mitchell's ramblings had been anything more than irrational hallucinations, then they were definitely time sensitive material. "Hey Liz."

Weir jumped, blinking incoherently at her computer screen before looking up at her military CO, "John?"

"I think we've got a development."

He was halfway through his explanation of Cameron's fevered revelations when Elizabeth's radio chirped, "Dr. Weir, we have an incoming wormhole from the intergalactic bridge. It's Dr Lam and Dr Jackson, ma'am."

"Thank you Sgt, we'll meet her in the jumper bay." She turned to John, "I didn't realize Dr Jackson was coming too, but I guess we can get that message to the SGC now."

Sheppard turned and followed her out of the office; in truth, he was slightly surprised the whole team hadn't put in an appearance. He'd seen how close they'd all grown over the last year and a half, although he was sure it was like his team in that there were times they all wanted to bash each other's heads against the wall. Apparently, an alternate Teal'c had done exactly that to Cam when all the other SG-1s showed up at the SGC.

He shifted on the balls of his feet as he waited for Jackson and Carolyn to disembark from the jumper. It occurred to him that he should have warned Carson that they were coming; if Lam was anything like Carson when her loved ones were hurt, then Beckett was going to have his hands full.

Inside the jumper Carolyn and Daniel waited impatiently for their pilot to shut down the engines and lower the back hatch. Lam was exceedingly grateful for Jackson's supportive presence at her side; the entire team had wanted to come, but Vala and Teal'c were still questioning their contacts at the far reaches of the Milkyway and Sam was needed at the SGC to coordinate the continuing search for the delegates. Plus Daniel had felt that if they found the delegates in Pegasus, it might be good for them to see a familiar face. After what seemed like an eternity, the ramp was lowered and they were greeted by Weir and Sheppard.

"Dr Lam, Dr Jackson, welcome to Atlantis." She gave them a tight smile, "I wish it were under better circumstances."

Daniel gave Carolyn's hand a quick squeeze, "so do we Dr Weir."

Conversation stalled as each took in the others' conditions, everyone appeared completely exhausted, and fidgeted restlessly. Finally, Sheppard broke the silence, "I'll take you guys down to the infirmary. Elizabeth why don't you get some sleep, you look like you could use it." In reality, he knew they all needed sleep, but there was no way Lam and Jackson were going to sleep until they'd checked on their missing man and Elizabeth looked a bit more worse for wear than he felt. John saw her start to object, but cut her off with a shake of his head, "don't make me sic Carson on you."

Carolyn and Daniel watched the proceedings with a trace of amusement; apparently things around here ran much the same as they did at the SGC.

Weir shot John a look that clearly stated they would be having a little chat later, but relented none the less. "In that case, I will see you all in the morning." She turned and stalked out of the room muttering about stubborn sky jockeys and the like.

Sheppard gave them a quick rundown on Mitchell's condition and how they'd found him on the planet as they made their way to the infirmary. "Dr Jackson, does 'Worrel's kassa' mean anything to you?"

"Well, yeah; Worrell oversaw Kassa production on one of the Lucian Alliance planets, but they abandoned the planet after Ba'al stole the Stargate." Jackson gave him an inscrutable look, "why?"

John swallowed hard, "Mitchell's got quite a fever; he was getting pretty restless a while ago, kept going on about an auction and getting to Worrell's Kassa." Sheppard shrugged, "he wouldn't leave it alone, Carson had to sedate him before he hurt himself anymore."

They reached the infirmary then, Carolyn leaving to two men behind discussing the delegates as she rushed towards Cameron's bed. John had given her a brief history of his injuries already, but her heart still sank as she took in his bruised and slack features. She looked up into Carson's concerned face as an arm was draped around her shoulders.

"He's going to be fine, lass." Beckett pulled over the hard plastic chair that both he and John had made use of over the last ten hours.

Lam nodded, she knew Cameron usually came out on top, but she was scared to death about the one time he wouldn't. She didn't mean to ignore Carson as he gave her an update on Cam's condition, but everything seemed to fade to the background as she laid a hand on his feverish cheek.

Cam continued to shift restlessly, but turned and nuzzled into her cool hand. "Baby?"

Carolyn leaned down to rest her forehead on his; she knew he wasn't really aware of things, but that wouldn't stop her from offering him any comfort she could. "I'm here Cameron, I'll always be here."


	13. Chapter 13

**SLASH warning: we do see more of John and Carson's relationship in this chapter.**

His first thought was that he would do absolutely anything to get rid of the marching band that had apparently taken up residence in his skull. The second was that there were distinct voices competing for his attention over the marching band; he bit back a groan as the noise levels continued to increase.

"John keep yer voice down, yeh'll wake Carolyn."

Sheppard either hadn't heard the admonishment or was choosing to ignore it. "Well hell, Carson; you're acting like I've never gone on a dangerous mission before. How exactly am I supposed to react?"

The conversation wasn't making all the much sense to his addled brain, but Cameron could hear the emotion behind the words. And strangely enough, he knew those voices; the realization that he was in the Atlantis infirmary wasn't nearly as shocking as it should have been.

"I'm just worried about what would happen if they got their hands on you. I mean, bloody hell, look what they did to Col Mitchell."

The voices faded from his concentration as an itch on his back began to make itself known when a bead of sweat slid along his spine; instinctively he shifted to relieve it. Cam couldn't hold back the groan any longer as pain exploded through his entire body. So moving, not such a good idea; Cameron decided against doing that again anytime soon.

"Col, are yeh in there lad? Are yeh in pain?"

Mitchell wasn't sure how his body would react to nodding, so he settled for answering the Doc's question with another broken groan, figuring he was killing two birds with one stone. Almost immediately he felt a warmth flowing up his arm, dulling the pain; Morphine, a drug with which he was on way too intimate of terms with. He waited until the drug had spread through his entire system before he risked cracking an eye open. And immediately clamped it shut again when a bright pen light slammed another wave of pain through his head.

"Guess some things don't change no matter what galaxy you're in." He couldn't help but wonder if that gravelly croak had actually come out of his mouth. Cam nearly moaned with delight when an ice chip was slipped between his dry, cracked lips. "Thanks Doc."

"Well Col, I'm not quite sure what it is that yeh said, but I must say I'm happy that yeh're more coherent now than you have been the other times yeh've woken."

Cameron risked opening an eye again so he could study Beckett's face, "I've been awake?"

Carson let loose a low chuckle, his relief at the change in Mitchell's condition obvious on his face, "Aye, Col, although conscious might be a better word for it. Yeh weren't exactly making a lot of sense."

Cam let that thought marinate for awhile as he tried to force the fog from his brain; a thought lay just on the edge of his consciousness, but for the life of him, Cameron couldn't seem to get a firm grasp on it. Giving up for the moment, he let his mind wander down another path, "Carolyn?"

Beckett took a small step to the side, inclining his head toward the bed next to Mitchell's. He bit back a chuckle at the resigned look that came over the colonel's features before he slowly turned his head to the right. "She and Dr Jackson were completely knackered when they got here; I managed to convince Dr Jackson to find an actually bed, but Carolyn wouldn't hear of leaving yeh. Speaking of which, I'd better wake her before I get into trouble."

Cam tried to reach out for Beckett's arm, but his entire body felt like it was loaded with lead; he settled for calling out to him; "don't bother her Doc, I'm sure she needs the sleep." He didn't mention that he felt like he'd be asleep in two seconds anyway."

"Aye that she does, but I'd wager that she'll sleep better once she knows yeh've woken." Carson gave his patient a conspiratorial grin, "besides, she scares me a wee bit more than yeh do right now." He walked over to the bed and gave the other doctor's shoulder a gentle shake; "Carolyn, lass, he's awake now."

Lam was on her feet and at Cam's bedside before the words were fully out of Carson's mouth.

Cameron dredged up as much of a grin as he could muster given the current state of affairs, "hey baby, miss me?"

Lam put considerably effort into not decking the man she loved; in fact she probably would have hit him if she could have found an inch of him that wasn't already bruised or broken. "Cameron Frank Mitchell-"

The colonel instantly realized his mistake, she'd spent three weeks not knowing where he was, not knowing if he was dead or alive; now was not the time for jokes. "God, baby, I'm sorry, I- I didn't think." He reached a shaky right hand up toward her face.

Carolyn grabbed it and gently brought it the rest of the way to her cheek, giving his scrapped palm a small kiss before placing it on her face. She could never stay mad when those bright blue eyes of his looked so earnest, "I'm just glad we've got you back." Out of the corner of her eye, Lam saw Carson start to turn away, intent on leaving the couple to their private moment. "Carson, we should let Daniel know."

"Dr Jackson is headed out with Col Sheppard's team to the planet that Col Mitchell gated in from."

A series of memories flashed through Cam's head when Becket mentioned the gate, "wait, I need to talk to them." He knew he was fading fast, but he couldn't let Sheppard and Jackson walk onto that planet blind; they'd never make it up the hill without being seen. That's _if_ the Coalition and the delegates were still there.

Carolyn gave her fiancé a stern look, "I'm surprised you're not trying to go with them."

"Honestly baby, if I could move my legs right now without passing out, I would be going with them."

Beckett reached up to tap his ear piece; "Col Sheppard, Col Mitchell would like a word with you." He gently disengaged the radio from his ear and handed the small mic to Cameron.

"Hey, Shep."

"Mitchell, damn I'm glad to hear you're awake."

Cam shot Carson and Carolyn a wry grin, "well that makes one of us. Look, you planning on taking a jumper?"

"Considered it, why?"

"There's a good sized… uh, hill, between the gate and the compound; you're going to have trouble getting up it without the jumper. There was a Goa'uld mother ship parked next to the compound when I left; couldn't have been more than 25 guards tops."

"Thanks for the intel Mitchell; we'll tell the delegates you said hi."

Cameron handed the radio back to Beckett and caught a glimpse of the raw fear hiding in the doctor's blue eyes. "Guess several things don't change no matter what galaxy you're in."

Carson looked up, the fear turning to horror before a mask of pure innocence slammed down on his face. "I'm sorry colonel, I don't understand."

Mitchell chuckled, "the CMO and the team leader; don't worry Doc, secret's safe with me. I never was a big fan of don't ask, don't tell; I'm happy for you guys." He blinked heavily, his earlier energy spike long forgotten.

Beckett sighed with relief when he received a smile and murmur of congratulations from Carolyn too. "Thank you and I'm sure John will appreciate that as well."

Fifteen minutes later John slammed the brakes on the cloaked jumper; he instinctively flinched away, trying to save his hearing, at Rodney's high pitched exclamation right next to his ear.

"He called that a _hill_!"

John and Daniel shared a look from the two pilot seats; yeah, Mitchell would call that a hill. "Well, I guess that explains why he was covered in mud when we found him."

Jackson laughed, "You should have seen him after he fought the knight in Camelot;" he held up his fingers, an inch and a half between them, "this thick."

"Wait, he got to fight a _knight!_"

Daniel smiled at the note of extremely jealousy in Sheppard's voice, "two."

"Well shit," John muttered, intending the curse on two levels: that Mitchell had gotten to fight not one, but two knights, and that the compound appeared deserted, the ground next to it devoid of a mother ship.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry everyone, I know its been slow going lately, but things will pick up in the next chapter or two.**

Marina gasped as the knife bit further into her side; all around, her fellow delegates fought against the hands that held them. It was no use, the harder they struggled the more they were punished, and it wasn't doing them any good. No matter what they did, they continued to be pulled away from each other, toward the various ships of those that had "bought" them.

He was powerless to stop it. He pulled at the bonds that contained his arms, but the potential buyers that circled him just jeered at his weak attempts. He had failed; despite all his attempts the auction had taken place, the delegates had been sold off one by one.

He lashed out with a foot when one of the buyers came to close.

Carson reeled backwards when Mitchell's knee caught him in the chin, the bone on bone contact instantly opening up a large, bloody gash along the doctor's chin. The diagnostic bed behind Beckett broke his fall and he was instantly back at Cameron's side trying to wake his patient from whatever nightmare held him within its grip.

Cameron bolted upright, dragging in huge, gulping breaths as the deserted infirmary came into focus. He turned to see Beckett holding a bloody hand to his chin, "Doc?"

Carson waved off his concern, "not to worry colonel. Another nightmare?" He grabbed a small piece of gauze from a nearby cart as he waited for Mitchell to respond to his question.

Cam slumped back against the head of the bed, wincing when the move pulled on the partially healed wounds covering his back; he closed his eyes, trying to relive the dream. It'd been the same dream every time he fell asleep for the last four days, the problem was he'd never been able to remember it when he woke up; until now. "Doc, I gotta talk to Dr Jackson and Col Sheppard; they're going to auction off the delegates."

Mitchell's agitation had Carson putting in the call immediately; although it was late evening, he knew both men would be there in a matter of minutes. "Aye lad, we know; the rest of your team is already on their way to Worrel's planet." Beckett laid a comforting hand on the injured man's shoulder when Cameron gave him a thoroughly confused look. "Yeh're fever got quite high, yeh kept insisting that the auction was going to take place on Worrel's Kassa planet."

Cam shook his head, "but that's the thing, it's not." He shifted in the bed and hissed as the movement jostled his leg, shoulder, ribs, etc; he wondered briefly if there was an inch of his body that wasn't injured, because it sure as hell didn't feel like there was. "Worrel always shipped his Kassa to the same market place on the same planet, the Coalition is going to use the market place to hide the auction. If my team's already headed to where Worrel _produced_ the Kassa, then they're on the wrong side of the galaxy."

Daniel entered the room just in time to hear Cam's last pronouncement, "wait, what?"

Cameron shifted again, he knew it was probably time for more pain meds, but he wanted to get through this first; Carson had been cutting him back lately but the Vicoden still made his head feel like it was completely disconnected from his body. "During my first little sit-down with Worrel, before things got nasty, he told me where to get his Kassa at market. He ships it across the galaxy to try and keep his production planet location a secret. We've got to get a message to the Odyssey."

"They won't come out of hyperspace for another eighteen hours."

"Perfect," Mitchell let out a small sigh, "well it took them just under two weeks to get from the Milky Way to Pegasus, and I've been here, what, six days, so that leaves us about eight days before the auction."

"That's impossible, even at top speed the Daedalus takes three weeks to make the trip." John knew that there were other planets in Pegasus that were closer the Milky Way than Atlantis, but nothing that could account for the week that Cameron was claiming. He stopped short when he noticed Carson still holding the bloody gauze to his chin; he raised a concerned eyebrow, but Carson waved him off with a sheepish smile.

"Shep, you're going to love this; their engines were a combination of Goa'uld, Ancient, Ori, _and_ Asgard technology. Sam and McKay would have a field day with those things."

"What things?"

Carson bit back a groan as Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, and Elizabeth walked towards Mitchell's bed, and wondered why half of Atlantis suddenly felt the need to visit his patient. A patient that currently needed to be asleep much more than he needed to be awake. Beckett was just thankful that he'd gotten Carolyn to sleep in a real bed finally; the poor woman had barely gotten any rest sitting by her fiancé's bed, waking every time he stirred.

"Hey Doc, Teyla, Ronon, Dr Weir," Cameron greeted the new arrivals. "McKay, the hyperdrive engines on the Coalition's ship, never seen anything like them. At the very least they were a combination of Goa'uld, Ancient, Ori, and Asgard technology; there was probably some other stuff in there too that I just couldn't recognize."

Rodney's eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning; he turned to Sheppard, the appeal easily readable on his face.

John hated to break the man's heart, but there was nothing else for it. "Sorry Rodney, but even if we manage to get our hands on their ship, Col Carter will get first crack at it since it's in her galaxy and all." If he hadn't felt so bad, Sheppard would have considered laughing at the overdramatic way Rodney's hopeful smile had turned into the world's saddest pout. He decided to throw his friend a bone, "tell you what Rodney, if they can take the ship _without_ blowing it up-" he shot Cam a meaningful look- "I'll talk Elizabeth into giving you a couple weeks off so that you can go play with Carter- er, the ship."

Cameron chuckled, "I'll make sure Sam officially requests your help Doc; think of it as my apology for pulling the lemon on you."

McKay was so ecstatic to even have the possible opportunity to see something like Mitchell had described that he wouldn't have cared if the colonel had threatened him with a lemon then and there. With uncharacteristic magnanimity, Rodney waved him off, "yes, well, we were all under stress-"

But Mitchell cut him off with a raised hand and an earnest look, "doesn't matter Doc, it was rude and I'm sorry. Just a heads up though, even if we do get our hands on their ship, the engines aren't exactly the definition of easy access. I learned that one the hard way when I tried to throw a wrench in the works, literally."

"Why on Earth would you try to do a thing like that!" McKay seemed utterly horrified at the thought that anyone would want to sabotage the things that were going to be the object of his dreams for a very long time now.

"Well Doc, I was _slightly_ more concerned with getting the delegates out of there than I was with the new technology."

Elizabeth finally spoke up, "is that the reason for your injuries Colonel? I'm guessing they didn't take kindly to your escape attempt."

Cameron closed his eyes and tried to hold back the yawn that threatened; he'd done nothing but sleep for five days, yet he still never seemed to have enough energy to make it through an entire conversation. "Part of it; the other part was trying to figure out who I was; they figured that if I was mediating the peace talks than I must be someone who would fetch a pretty good price at the auction."

"You went through all of this just so they wouldn't find out who you were?"

"It was the only reason they didn't have the auction right away." Cam shrugged, "plus I figured escape or rescue would be easier if we were all in one place. I guess they came to Pegasus to buy themselves more time since you guys were rampaging through the Milky Way looking for us." He gave Daniel a grateful smile, "thanks by the way."

**STARGATE: SG-1**

Two days later, Carolyn was ready to kill her fiancé if only to save Carson the trouble; "Cameron, I don't think Carson meant that to be a walking boot."

Mitchell looked up and gave her his most winning smile. "Probably not," he said simply but continued to hobble his way across the infirmary. "I gotta get my butt moving so I don't slow down my team when we crash the auction."

"Cameron, we've discussed this, you're in no shape to go on a rescue mission."

Cam shook his head as he slumped onto a nearby gurney; "no baby, you've discussed it." He held out a hand, waiting as she took it and settled next to him. "Baby, you know I love you more than life itself, and I couldn't respect you and Dr Beckett more as doctors, but I'm going on this mission with or without your permission." Mitchell sighed and averted his eyes from Carolyn's face, hating the look of fear and recrimination he saw there. "If the delegates don't see a familiar face, they're not going to come willingly, and I'm not going to let my team get hurt because the delegates won't participate in their own rescue."

Lam dropped her head in resignation. She knew when she got involved with him that there were some arguments that she'd never win, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Her only consolation was that they still had nearly a week before the Coalition would reach the planet which meant that she still had time to help him prepare. She rubbed the back of his hand, mindful of the still-open wound encircling his wrist, "Dr. Weir says we can leave for Midway in an hour, we'll meet up with the Odyssey there."

"Sounds good." Cameron carefully wrapped his arms around Carolyn and graced her with a small smile, "just enough time for us to find Shep and Dr Beckett so that we can congratulate them properly."


	15. Chapter 15

**Sorry about the long wait, but my stress level dropped by about 90 yesterday, so hopefully I'll get this finished up pretty soon now. Please review.**

"Ug, Teal'c, missed you too buddy, but the bone crushing hug isn't really working for me right now." Cameron took a small, thankful breath when Teal'c released him; broken ribs and a happy Jaffa were _not_ a good combination. Thankfully, Sam and Vala treated him a little more gently when they welcomed him home.

Carter assessed her team leader with a critical eye, "Cam, I don't know if anyone's told you yet, but you look like shit." It was true too, the bruising still stood out vividly on his pale face, his stiff posture was nearly the exact opposite of the easy-going Cameron she knew and he looked like he was going to pass out if he didn't sit down in the next two minutes.

"Gee, thanks Sam." Mitchell knew she was right; he hadn't even bothered looking in a mirror for the last week, everything hurt enough without actually seeing the damage that had been done. But right now, how they were going to get the delegates back took precedence over how he looked or even felt. "How long before we get to the planet."

"Four days."

"Alright, let's get started on a rescue plan then; I'm sure Col Emerson will let us have the briefing room for a couple of days."

"No." Everyone turned to look at Carolyn, but she only had eyes for Cameron. "You are going to rest; you've already had too much excitement today. It won't do you any good to over-exert yourself now because you'll only pay for it later."

Teal'c hid a small smirk as he inclined his head toward Lam, glad that someone was laying down the law with his team leader. He could understand Mitchell's need to be doing something, _anything_ to be getting the delegates home safely, but they still had plenty of time to plan and Cameron would be a much better asset to the team if he was well rested. "Dr Lam is correct Col Mitchell. I will inform Col Emerson that we will have need of the briefing room tomorrow afternoon." He returned Carolyn's grateful look with a small nod of his own.

Cam started to object, but stopped as he took in the collectively firm set of his team's jaw; he wasn't going to win this one. He glanced down at the cane in his right hand- Beckett's one demand before he was released from the Atlantis infirmary, and seriously considered hurling it against the nearby bulk head. He didn't want to rest, resting only allowed him to concentrate on things he'd rather not think about; like how it was his fault that the delegates were still prisoners of the Coalition.

His grip tightened on the handle of the cane; "fine," he finally ground out, "tomorrow at 1300 hours." He whirled, pushing past the sudden dizziness that the movement had caused and followed a Lieutenant to his assigned quarters.

The team wasn't exactly stunned at the sudden change in Cameron's mood; they'd all known him long enough to know that he didn't do well with inactivity. But there was something else underlying his frustration. They all looked at each other, silently questioning the cause of his extreme agitation.

Vala couldn't help the frustrated sigh that escaped her; the team had been together for little over a year now, and they still hadn't learned to read Mitchell as easily as she had within the first month. In all honesty, she was surprised they hadn't figured this one out right away, especially Carolyn, it was written all over his face. "You guys don't get it do you?" Her answer was four completely blank looks; "well, it's obvious he feels guilty for leaving the delegates."

"But that's ridicules," Daniel sputtered, "we wouldn't even know about the auction if he hadn't escaped."

"Cam doesn't see it that way; he thinks he should have been able to get the delegates out with him."

Carolyn nodded, that would be exactly how Cameron thought; he expected himself to be perfect. She knew he would have made it to his quarters by now, she just hoped he hadn't fallen asleep yet. "I've got to go get his antibiotics and pain meds from the infirmary; he needs to take them before he falls asleep. I'll try to talk to him about this, but you know he's not going to listen to me."

"Well, good luck," Vala chirped brightly and flounced off in the direction of the mess hall. She was just glad to have Mitchell home in one piece, more or less. He was so much more fun to torment than the others were, not that any of them had any fun while he'd been missing.

Five minutes later Carolyn was collecting the two bottles of medication from the Odyssey infirmary and wincing at the look of sympathy the nurse shot her. Did _everyone_ know how much of a handful Cameron was when he was injured? She shook off the thought as she moved down the hall to Cameron's quarters; she entered after getting a mumbled reply to her soft knock. Cam sat on the edge of the bed, his head bowed, and his otherwise rigid posture speaking volumes to the amount of pain he was still in. "Cameron?"

He answered without looking up at her, "hey baby, sorry about earlier."

Lam remained silent as she handed him the pills and a small glass of water. Cameron took them without comment; yet another indication of the pain he was in. The silence stretched on as Carolyn moved around the room tidying up- somehow he'd managed to make a mess in the five minutes he'd been there. Finally, she sat on the bed next to him and pulled her fiancé's head down on to her shoulder. "Cameron, you need to sleep." She felt him nod against her chest, but otherwise he made no effort to move. "We _will_ get them back."

"I shouldn't have left them."

Carolyn caught his tone of voice and knew better than to argue with him right now; Cameron was barely awake, his brain not up to processing any assurances that he had done the right thing. "Cameron, lie down."

Mitchell nodded dumbly and slumped back onto the bed; he didn't put up a fight as Carolyn stripped him of his jacket and pulled the covers over him. She planted a gentle but firm kiss on the one unblemished part of his forehead and turned to leave; Cameron needed his rest, but it was still only early evening.

"Stay?"

The single word plea broke her heart.

He looked entirely too vulnerable to refuse; if his words hadn't already pulled at her heart strings, then the fear in his eyes would have. Lam shed her own jacket and crawled under the covers as carefully as she could, but that didn't stop Cam from hissing in pain when she molded herself to his side. "Cameron, you okay?"

"I will be baby," he slowly wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her silky hair; "when we get them back, I will be."

**STARGATE: SG-1**

Daniel fought the urge to scratch his neck where the rough material of the cloak rubbed at it. He glanced to his left and saw Mitchell shift anxiously; he was taking this personally.

Cameron adjusted the hood of the cloak so that it covered the majority of his face; it'd be a _very_ short mission if he was recognized. Of course, with all the low-lives hanging around the market place, Jackson, Vala, and Teal'c were in just as much danger of being recognized as he was. He shifted his grip on the heavy walking stick Carolyn had insisted that he bring. He had to admit that it was a practical tool; most people would immediately dismiss him as a threat when they saw the stick and his leg really did hurt like hell without the walking boot.

The bustling of the market place continued around them, totally unconcerned with the four new arrivals. They looked around trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible, that's why they'd left the marines on the Cargo ship with Dr. Lam; out of sight, but still within easy running distance.

Vala and Teal'c stood to the other side of him, Jackson was sure Vala was still fiddling with her cloak too, she'd certainly complained loudly enough about it back on the Odyssey. Daniel envied Sam, at least she wasn't stuck wearing one of these. No, she got to go play on the interesting ship with another contingent of marines; not that trying to take over the ship was exactly playing.

Vala rubbed her hands together, "Shall we see who, _and what_, we can liberate from this dreadful planet?"

Daniel gaped at her, Teal'c raised an enigmatic eyebrow, and Mitchell just shook his head.

"Keep your eyes open," Cam mumbled as they fanned out, keeping each other with in visual range. He leaned heavily on the walking stick as he moved through the crowd, searching for any face that looked even remotely familiar. Several people jostled him as they fought to get near the stands of Kassa; the drug being in short supply now that the Lucian Alliance had been without half their Stargates for more than a year. He closely inspected each small alley way between the stalls; the Coalition wasn't exactly advertising the auction to just anyone so chances were they wouldn't be hiding the delegates along the main drag. A flash of a familiar tan color caught his eye just off to Vala's left, he caught the others attention and jerked his head in that direction before taking off after the man as quickly as he could without drawing attention.

The others followed at a more sedate pace but continued to keep their team leader in sight as he darted among the stalls. They watched as Mitchell poked his head into a large tent before disappearing completely through the flap. Throwing a glance at each other, they followed him in and nearly tripped over an unconscious figure in a tan uniform.

"Coalition," Cameron confirmed before anyone could ask. "The delegates have to be around here somewhere." He kept his voice low, knowing that there could well be more Coalition guards hiding in the other rooms of the tent.

Guns emerged from beneath the cloaks and they began to systematically search the tent. Cam and Teal'c ducked into the third room and gave a sigh of relief; in a cage on the middle of the room sat the ten delegates.

They were slightly battered and bruised but still in one piece. As one, they looked up in shock and fear at the armed men that had intruded on their solitude. Brogan forced himself to his feet, ignoring the pain and stiffness such a sedentary existence had brought on. He stuck out his chin, "are we to be your captives now then?"

"Well, you are coming with us, but not as captives." Cameron's grin grew as he pushed the hood back off his head, he was incredibly glad to find them reletively unharmed. He felt the large knot of guilt residing in his chest losen slightly at the sight; "you guys ready to go home?" He accepted the pat on the shoulder from Teal'c as the big Jaffa ducked back out of the room to find Daniel and Vala.

"Mediator?" The rest of the delegates were on their feet by now.

"Lt Col Cameron Mitchell of SG-1, at your service." Mitchell hobbled toward the cell before bending down to pull the thin metal strip from his lucky boots again. He was never leaving home without these boots again.

Marina smiled broadly, "I have heard of your team."

The pop of the lock was immediately followed by the cocking of a gun. "As have I."

Cameron cringed at the deep voice behind him; the voice that had haunted his nightmares for the past two weeks.


	16. Chapter 16

Cam cursed his luck, couldn't anything go right on one of their missions; he just had to hope that Sam and the marines were closer to reaching their objective than he was. He kept his back to the Captain but held his P-90 away from his body and let it drop to the ground. The familiar weight of his 9 mm rested comfortably against his thigh, hidden beneath the cloak.

"You are quite resourceful Colonel, the first to ever escape alive." The Captain let a menacing growl seep into his voice as he circled his new prize. He would not underestimate the man again, he kept his weapon trained on Mitchell but made sure to stay well out of arm's reach. "And now that I know your identity, you will fetch that exorbitant price that I knew you would."

The sharp staccato of automatic weapons fire from nearby broke the subsequent quiet. The Captain's sneer faltered for a second before it covered his face again, "And now it appears that I have the rest of SG-1 as well."

"Don't count on it." He tuned his ears to the fire fight, trying to count the number of guns involved and thankful to note that he could hear two distinct P-90s and a Zat- someone had run out of ammunition already. Cameron's poker face remained in place, hiding his smirk as he watched Brogan and Robain actually working together for once, pulling the recently opened lock from the door as silently as possible. His eyes followed the Captain as the pompous man finally stopped in front of him, his back to the cage of delegates; Cam held his breath as the Vice Chancellor and the Minister slowly pushed the door open.

And the damn thing just had to creak.

The Captain whirled, his gun raised, and Mitchell seized his opportunity. Knowing that he didn't have time to transfer the walking stick to his other hand, draw his side arm, and fire before the Captain killed one of the delegates- Cameron swung the stick with all his strength, aiming for the Captain's head, but hitting a lower target.

The Captain fell to his knees as the sudden blow forced the air from his lungs. His weapon dropped from slack fingers.

Cam moved quickly, kicking the Captain's gun over toward Brogan as he leaned down to pick up his own P-90. Making sure that the Minister had the downed man covered, he passed his side arm to another one of the delegates, pulled a zip tie from his hidden tack vest and bound the Captain's hands behind his back. Mitchell was still well aware that his team was engaged in a fire fight just a few rooms away, and while it did seem to be dying down, it was still going on and he had to hurry.

"Stay well away from him, but if his moves, kill him." Cameron made the order as stern as possible; there was too much at stake for leniency right now.

He moved out of the room, staying as low as possible and allowing his ears to lead him to Teal'c, Daniel and Vala. Miraculously enough, his approach led him right up behind the last two Coalition members that appeared hell bent on killing his team. Of course, bad luck always seemed to be mixed with the good and he realized that he had absolutely no cover. Shrugging, Cam brought the weapon up to his shoulder; hopefully he and the others could take these two out before he got himself shot on top of everything else. He gave Teal'c a small smile and another shrug when he caught his eye just before he opened fire.

It was over in seconds.

Jackson, Vala, and Teal'c shared a pointed look as they emerged from behind the crates of Kassa they'd used as cover; Mitchell's guilt over leaving the delegates behind was going to get him killed.

"Do you have to _try_ to be suicidal or does it just come naturally?" Daniel shot his team leader an incredulous look; just because Mitchell had precipitated a quicker end to the fire fight didn't mean his actions hadn't been incredibly stupid.

Cam cocked his head as if to say, 'well, it worked didn't it?'. "Time to blow this popscicle stand boys and girls; let's get the delegates and the Captain and get the hell out of here."

"I agree; someone will have heard that. Besides, this market has absolutely nothing worth stealing," Vala pouted, trying to lighten the mood.

They quickly moved back toward the other room, keeping a wary ear out for any sounds of approaching soldiers. The delegates stood in a nervous huddle in the far corner of the room, well away from the Captain. They were dirty, exhausted and their clothes were in that ragged state that only occurred when a garmet had been worn for weeks on end; yet all their faces hald a look of extreme relief.

Cameron reached for his radio, "Col Emerson, we're ready for that pick up now sir."

"_I'm afraid that's impossible Colonel, a fleet of Lucian Allience motherships has moved in over the market place; we'll show up on their sensors long before can get within beaming range of you."_

"Son of a Bitch," Cam turned his head away from the radio when he swore; just another day in life of SG-1 and the Lucian Allience was exactly what they didn't need right now. "Understood Colonel, we'll hoof it back to the cargo ship."

He turned back to the team, giving a fatalistic shrug, "Vala, Teal'c you guys get to sheppard the delegates; Jackson and I'll handle the Captain." Cameron eyed Brogan and the other delegate that he had armed; now that the immediate danger was over he wanted to make sure they weren't going to shoot themselves or one of his team; "you two know how to handle those?" The entire group moved out when he received two nods of ascencion.

They kept to the back ally ways of the market place, trying to avoid both the Lucian Allience and the Coalition. Mitchell wasn't exactly thrilled about what would happen when those two groups ran into each other either and he sure as hell didn't want to get caught in the middle of it. The Allience still technically controled the market and he knew they wouldn't take to kindly to the Coalitition holding the auction in their back yard without permission.

He and Daniel each kept a hand on the Captain; so far the man had been complient, but Cam wasn't exactly buying it. He knew the man was just biding his time for the right opportunity, just as he had done the entire time he'd been a captive of the Coalition.

They were two thirds of the way to the cargo ship when all hell broke loose.

**Almost done! Please review, let me know I've kept at least some of your interest.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Yea, its finally done! Sorry this one took so long, but thanks for sticking with me, hope you liked the story. Please let me know what you thought, I'm hoping to have more time to write this spring so feedback is always good.**

Near as Cameron could tell, it was just a running fire fight between a couple groups of locals. Normally not a big deal, but right now it was making Cam wish that there was a sign on the crate he was hiding behind reading 'bang head here' mainly because he was now left with two very large problems. The first of which was that the locals had carved a path through the alley directly behind Vala- effectively cutting his trio off from the rest of the group. His second problem of the moment would be the contingent of Alliance grunts following along behind the locals.

Mitchell reached for his radio knowing that- at least with his luck- there was no way in this universe that the Alliance soldiers wouldn't recognize them. "Vala, Teal'c go, now! We'll keep 'em busy until you ring us up."

He smiled slightly when Vala hesitated for several seconds before turning to shove the delegates in the direction of the cargo ship; her priorities certainly had changed over the last year.

Daniel was already returning fire on the Alliance troops who'd realized they were there. He threw a glance over his shoulder, checking on the Captain who had apparently decided that discretion was the better part of valor in this case; the man was hunkered as far down behind the crate as he could get. Jackson continued firing until his ammo clip clicked empty; he had to wonder at his life some days, especially ones like this where he was engaged in his second firefight of the day and it wasn't even lunch time yet. Several bullets impacted the crate just as he dropped back behind it to reload.

Jackson spared a second glance at the Captain as he slammed home another clip and was surprised to find the man smiling at him- and how e_xactly_ had his hands gotten in front of him, the last Daniel knew they'd been securely zip-tied _behind_ his back.

The Captain took advantage of the other man's momentary stupor to grab a fistful of his cloak and smashed his forehead into the archeologist's nose.

Jackson slumped back against the crate with a surprised grunt, his gun falling limply into his lap.

Cameron made sure to pay particular attention to those soldiers that had been focused on Vala and the delegates, forcing the men to find adequate cover and abandon their pursuit of the other group. The noise from his P-90 completely masked the sounds of the short scuffle going on just a few feet to his right; thus he was completely unprepared for the rifle butt that was applied to the back of his skull. Letting out a pained grunt of his own, Cam dropped to his knees and swung around with his own weapon, catching the Captain in his relatively unprotected rib cage.

Under normal conditions, Mitchell would have been able to take down the restrained man in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, his broken leg had complained loudly about the drop to his knees and his ribs hadn't exactly been silent about swinging his gun around like that; add to that the double vision courtesy of the Captain's rifle and you had a great little trifecta of inconvenience. Survival instincts kicked in and the war for control continued, neither man gaining the upper hand but both knowing that they were fighting for their lives.

Surprised by the sudden lack of resistance, the Alliance soldiers carefully approached the bullet-riddled crate.

Cameron locked his hands in a textbook choke hold on the Captain, he slowly tightened his grip despite the other man's hands digging into his forearm. He knew that he didn't have much time, the Alliance troops would be on them in very short order, but he spared a look towards Jackson still slumped just a few feet away.

Blood ran freely from Daniel's nose and he blinked owlishly back at Cam; the archeologist was far from being "with it" and appeared completely incapable of movement on his own. Which was cause for great concern considering the circle of light that suddenly shown down on them only covered Daniel's lower body.

Mitchell immediately released his hold on the Captain and lunged for his friend, grabbing Jackson's collar and hauling the man within the circle just as the rings descended.

Above them on the cargo ship, Teal'c and a handful of marines waited impatiently in the ring room while Vala held the ship steady over their teammates. Neither of them had liked the thought of leaving Cameron and Daniel behind, unfortunately the delegates had needed their help more than their friends had at that point.

Teal'c tensed as the rings appeared from the floor, but the last thing he expected to see was Mitchell struggling to free himself from the Captain's grip and an unconscious Jackson lying next to the pair. The marine next to Teal'c raised his weapon, but the big Jaffa laid a hand on his arm, "this is something Col Mitchell must do on his own."

"Ah, no, really it's not!"

Instead of answering, Teal'c surged forward and pulled the Captain off his friend.

Cameron slumped back to the floor exhausted and in pain; at least he could rest now that it was finally over. He blinked rapidly as Teal'c's face entered his field of vision. "Teal'c, buddy, I appreciate the whole letting me defeat my own demons thing, really I do, but I've already kicked his ass twice, I'm good."

Teal'c smirked and gave a thoughtful nod before offering Cam a hand up off the floor; but Cameron waved him away, "I'm just going to lie here a minute; you know, collect my thoughts." After a minute, he slowly rolled his head over to watch Carolyn kneel by Daniel's head, "how is he?"

Lam gave her fiancé a concerned smile, "luckily his head is as hard as yours is, but his nose is definitely broken. And how are you feeling after all this excitement?"

"I'll live;" Mitchell tried to sit up to prove the point to both Carolyn and himself but quickly dropped back to the floor as the move pulled at abused muscles and re-injured ribs, "or not. Everybody else safe and sound?"

"The delegates are a bit dehydrated and a little banged up, but they're all here and alive."

"Great," Cameron closed his eyes, feeling the relief and fatigue wash over him in equal measures. "I'm just going to catch a few Z's before we get back to…"

**STARGATE: SG-1**

Three days later Mitchell found himself sitting at the conference table surrounded by his team and the Uglopian delegates. Carolyn and the Odyssey's doctor had finally released him from the infirmary the night before. Daniel sat just to his left, a stiff plastic splint protecting his very bruised nose. Sam was notably absent due to her fascination with the Coalition mothership; even the news that she'd be working with McKay on this one hadn't brought the woman down from cloud nine.

The first order of business was to return the delegates to their planet so that peace talks could resume; thankfully attacks on each of the nations had diminished significantly at the news that the delegates were on their way home. After the initial debrief of their time in captivity, Brogan had one more surprise for their rescuers.

"Colonel Mitchell, I feel it only fair that I tell you that Uglop is no longer in need of your services."

"Huh?" Cam felt himself warring between hurt and abject relief; the one thing he hadn't been looking forward to was the return to twelve hours days of negotiation.

Marina spoke up, "we made good use of our time with the Coalition; terms of the treaty have been decided upon and the only thing that remains is to document them formally on paper. I have no doubt that the treaty will be ratified by all without further discussion." She shot Robain a pointed look, but the older man was already nodding his head in agreement.

Col Emerson raised his eyebrows, "that is good news. As long as that remains the case, we'll drop you off and return to Earth; we'll get the papers drawn up before we reach Uglop."

Vala rubbed her hands together with glee before clapping Teal'c on the shoulder, "don't you just love it when a plan comes together?" Teal'c and Daniel cocked twin eyebrows at her before standing to leave.

Meanwhile, Cameron thumped his way back to his quarters- the walking boot and the cane really did make life less painful- hoping to high heaven that no one was going to need him for the next eighteen hours. He wasn't really surprised to find Carolyn bent over the desk going over some notes once he got there.

She looked up quickly when the door swung inwards, "how'd it go?"

"Well the treaty's done so we don't have to stay on Uglop." He wrapped his arms around her thin waist and gave her his cockiest grin, "so you can take me home and put me to bed, baby."


End file.
